An Encounter that Only Lasted a Minute
by Lhye
Summary: Taking a precious break from her disguise as a male, Heihachi assumes no one would walk in. She assumed wrong....Oops. :D Meanwhile, Kambei and Katsushiro journey to Kougakyo for more samurai...KyuxKatsu?, Fem. HeihachixShichiroji
1. The Price

Since I did a female Kyuzo story, I'm doing a quick one on the female Heihachi idea. Less convincing than a f. Kyuu, but...could be fun. :] I'm technically done with _What the Rain Said_, just a matter of posting it...but until it's ALL DONE I'm holding off on another multi-chapter project I have in mind. It can also be considered a gift or sorts to Jun-I. I keep harassing the poor author. I'm sorry, thanks for being so nice, lol.

**Warning**: Female Heihachi, ShichixHeihachi-ish.

* * *

With a heavy sigh, Heihachi stepped into to the house reserved for the samurai by the villagers. Sliding the door closed behind him until he heard its satisfying wooden _clack_, Heihachi quickly began figuring exactly how much privacy he had.

Pausing in the doorway, Heihachi's eyes rolled up to stare at the ceiling, calculating. Most of the others were helping to rebuild this or that. For sure, none of the villagers would walk into the samurais' quarters unannounced, they would at least knock and wait for an answer.

Assured of the security, Heihachi kicked off his boots and stepped onto the wooden floor, creaking slightly under the weight. Pulling off first his hat and goggles, Heihachi yawned as he walked. Exhausted, he tossed them both onto a low table set against the wall. Next he pulled off his gloves.

Maintaining the disguise as a man was difficult. Heihachi examined her bare hands. Despite being calloused and scarred here and there, they were still hands far too womanly to be convincingly male. Those thick gloves were indeed important for a mechanic's safety, but they also were a good cover up. Still, it was tiring wearing them so often.

Tossing them onto the table along with her hat, Heihachi gratefully shook out her hair with her hands.

The thick and heavy vest came off next. People underestimated exactly how thick it was. It was also shaped to be bulky and linear. If one was paying extremely close attention, they could distinguish the space between body and vest, but no one was going to be that diligent in watching her. Besides, the pockets distorted the senses more. Even if someone happened to think something odd, they wouldn't dwell on it.

Heihachi smiled widely and stretched her arms straight up over her head, flexing her back and her sides. It was such a relief to be rid of that weight now and then.

If someone were to ask why Heihachi hid her gender, she'd say she preferred being without the complications, the assumptions. Simplicity was a concept Heihachi admired. If pressed, she'd be forced to admit that it had caused her some pain here and there. But she got over it. Overall, it had been very much worth it. She was sure she hadn't missed out on much.

Rare was the chance that Heihachi had time to enjoy being without her disguise, convinced no one was going to come barging in without notice.

Of course, that was exactly what happened, and Heihachi, horrified, looked up at the sound of the door opening.

"Hei-san, someone told me you came in here." Shichiroji first noted the hat, goggles, and gloves on the table. He didn't think much of it until he turned his head.

First was the petrified look on Heihachi's face, both eyes wide open. Then, his eyes traveled downward, to the contour of a woman's unmistakable figure. Without the vest, it was quite clear.

Heihachi gulped. The two stared at each other. A very long, very tense, very awkward silence weighted the air.

Shichiroji lifted an eyebrow. "Interesting."

Was that all he was going to say? Heihachi blinked several times, in disbelief, as Shichiroji pulled off his own shoes so as to come into the house. She watched as he nonchalantly leaned his sheathed weapon against the wall.

Waiting with what could only be called a mixture of impatience and nervousness, she finally asked, "So....um....you aren't surprised?"

"Oh, no, I'm _very_surprised." Shichiroji did not disguise his curiosity, and ran his eyes over the clothes form of a rather well-endowed woman. "How did you manage to hide yourself so well?"

"Uh...well...you know." Heihachi's nervous reaction was a sheepish smile. Her rounded cheeks were beginning to turn very pink, not accustomed to having a man actually look at her as a woman. "The vest works...."

"You don't bind your breasts?" Shichiroji asked blatantly. "I've only seen a handful of disguised female samurai, and that's what they usually did."

"Um...." Heihachi's face turned redder. As if the situation couldn't have become more awkward....it suddenly did. And this man was taking absolutely no notice of it. He was adding to it, actually. And it made it even more embarrassing to admit the following.

"For women with smaller chests, it works..." Heihachi began awkwardly. Shichiroji was standing several feet in front of her, arms crossed over his chest, eyes dead set on her face, head tilted as he listened. "But....."

She trailed off, hoping he would interpret the rest. Dropping her eyes off his face, Shichiroji instead prompted her to continue, "But what?"

Oh, _why_? Why did he ask?

"They're....too big." Heihachi's face was set aflame. "To bind myself that tightly is uncomfortable. Especially when I'm dealing with machines all the time and have to keep bending or leaning this way and that. The vest works fine."

Shichiroji nodded, not at all put off by Heihachi's sensitive confession. She was trying to seem casual. If Shichiroji had been paying closer attention, he would have noticed how bad of an actress she really was.

Another long silence took over. The poor little redhead was trying to keep the miserable look off her face. Shichrioji, meanwhile, made note of the pure embarrassment written all over said face.

He inquired as to why she seemed so, and she looked up at him, mild surprise on her face. Heihachi didn't quite know why he was asking something like that, and with a weak smile, she rubbed the back of her head. "Wouldn't you be embarrassed too?"

"Hm....I dunno." Shichiroji tapped his chin with his index finger. "There are a lot of girls who'd be grateful for that 'problem'."

Maybe Shichiroji knew it, maybe he didn't, but he was mounting more humiliation onto Heihachi's shoulders. She sighed, and he frowned slightly, curious.

The two stood there for another length of time. The sounds of life outside seemed more and more distant, as if a little world was closing in around them.

With some more thinking on Shichiroji's part, deciphered the reason for the short woman's discomfort. She was just a tomboy, embarrassed by her femininity and all signs of. He groaned and slapped the heel of his palm to his forehead, upon realizing that he had been making the situation worse. He sincerely hadn't meant to.

Surprised again, Heihachi's face lifted to stare into the man's face. "What is it?"

"Sorry. That's all." Shichiroji smiled.

Somehow, it assured her. A small, genuine smile crept back to her lips, and instantly, she exaggerated it to her normal wide grin. "No problems."

The tension, and some of the awkwardness, deflated from the air, and the two smiled, just as friendly as ever, at each other.

"So....uh...." Heihachi sheepishly chuckled. "Can you...not tell anyone?"

"Oh....I don't know about _that_one." Shichiroji mused, rubbing his chin. The comfort, and the color, drained from Heihachi's face. "I don't think I can keep this from everyone."

"W....what? Why?" The smile dropped from her mouth.

"Kind of...how do you put it...unfair?" Shichiroji stared into the distance, in thought.

Dismayed, Heihachi stared at the floor. "Well.....I can't force you..."

Casting a teasing smile on the poor thing, Shichiroji pretended to consider, "Hmmmm.....I might consider keeping it quiet...."

"Really?" Heihachi allowed a little smile back onto her face as she looked up. It faltered somewhat, however, at the calculating look on the man's face. From experience, she knew that was _never_ a good sign.

"If you can pay the _price_...." Shichiroji grinned.

The breath caught in Heihachi's throat. Oh _no_.....

Cautiously, she asked, "....What's the price?"

After brief delay, Shichiroji suddenly began walking towards her. Heihachi's eyes widened, and accordingly, she backed up. Suddenly nervous, she tried to maintain the distance between them, but Shichiroji wasn't relenting as he continued to head straight for her.

Eventually, her back hit the wall. Taking a furtive glance at the wall, she quickly looked back to Shichiroji, creeping ever closer. "W...wait, wait a second..."

Her hands braced themselves at her sides, and looked up helplessly as the much taller man stopped barely a foot away from her. In this position, he practically towered over her, staring down at her face, a playful but calm smile on his all the same. It was the expression of someone who had leverage and knew it.

"U-uh, w-wait a se-second..." Heihachi stammered, and her companion seemed to take no notice.

Her shoulders jerked when his hand suddenly came up to cup her chin between his fingers, and direct her face upwards.

She swallowed hard, and he could feel it against his knuckles, brushing ever so slightly against her throat.

Heihachi's fingertips pressed into the wall, in surprise and some sense of fright when Shichiroji began to bring his face down, closer, and closer, feeling the adrenaline pulse through her veins.

Shichiroji's half-open eyes took in Heihachi's barely parted, trembling lips, the reddened flush on her cheeks, her rapidly blinking eyes. His mouth was less than two inches away from hers, and he closed his eyes. He hovered there, sensing her near panic. After several seconds ticked by on a clock so far away, he opened his eyes just enough to see her eyes were closed.

Finally, though, he closed the space, and brushed his lips against hers. The ghost of a touch was enough to let Shichiroji feel her trembling and sense her awkwardness, and again that persistant hint of fear.

Pressing his mouth closer to hers, he was able to understand more. The shyness, the charming girlishness of a young maiden, a little tomboy who didn't know how to kiss a man. To the right person, it was perfect.

It was one single kiss that lingered. And against what Heihachi had immediately feared, Shichiroji's hands didn't move, his body close but not dangerously so. After those precious few seconds, Shichiroji pulled his mouth away and opened his eyes as she did. Sliding his fingers out from under her chin, Shichiroji stepped away and smiled.

"See? That wasn't so bad, was it?" He put a good distance between them, eyes trained on Heihachi's disbelieving face.

Her cheeks were still bright red, and she stared at him. "T....That's it?"

"That's it." Shichiroji laughed and took his weapon in hand from against the wall.

Heihachi could hardly believe it. Her red eyes watched his shoulders as he stooped down to pull his shoes back on.

"That's _all_." She felt the need to confirm.

Standing straight up, Shichiroji shrugged. "Yep. That's all there is to it."

"....Oh...." A short sigh of relief was released as she pressed a hand to her chest.

"Your secret is safe." He assured Heihachi, and glanced over his shoulder. "Unless, of course, you'd like to give something _more_, which is another case entirely-"

"NO!" Heihachi yelled, turning beet-red, frantically waving her hands. "Nonononono, that's okay, really!"

Shichiroji chuckled again. "Better pull your disguise back on. The others will be in shortly to rest before dinner."

And with that said, he opened the door just big enough for him to slide through, so no one could see in, and shut it behind him as he left. Heihachi watched his shadowed silhouette through the paper sliding doors until it disappeared behind the wall.

Standing, still somewhat in shock, Heihachi felt herself unable to move. The entire intimate encounter could have only lasted a minute, and happened less than two minutes ago. Yet still, it felt so distant, somehow surreal, as if she had daydreamed the whole thing.

With a sigh, she reached for her gloves and pulled them on.

The blush on her face had barely begun to fade, and her heart ached after pounding so fast for so long, and she reached for her vest.

In the privacy of this house, she didn't need to wear a mask on her melancholy face.

Heihachi was not going to fool herself. She knew.

Yes, here and there, keeping the guise of a man _did_ cause her some hurt.

Nonetheless, a small smile made its way onto her face.

This kind of pain wasn't so bad, anyway.

At least, for now.

* * *

Someone have a little crush? Methinks so, too. Oh, poor Hei-san. Is it unrequited maybe? Methinks maybe, maybe not. -wink-

Yukino was not mentioned for the sake of convenience....

Heihachi being "embarrassed" by her femininity comes from personal sentiment. I used to be quite the tomboy as a youngster, and I _did not_ like to be thought of very much as a "little girl". I'm not nearly the tomboy anymore, but I still don't like to be thought of as "a girl", I like to be thought of as "a person". Some of this sentiment rubbed off onto the girl Heihachi's personality.

Also, I read a comic where a female character with "large breasts and...and the body of a model", was "embarrassed by her physical richness". In my interpretation, the female Heihachi is indeed insecure about a larger chest and very rounded hips. Whereas I depict/describe Kyuzo with very long and thin proportions, I imagined Heihachi to be more of the "voluptuous" type. Her awkwardness is partially out of shyness and also because she's not _used _to being viewed on "as a woman". Shichiroji had to figure this out, but he should have had the decency to not say some things he did anyway.

Anyhow, I think this is a stand-alone one-shot, so I'm listing it as "complete". No promises, but maybe I'll eventually be intriguied to go further with this story -smile- Who knows.


	2. Teruterubozus and Rice

.....oh. So it's _not_ a one-shot.

Anyhow, I'm trying to break out of my habit of staying with the canon story for this fiction. I sort of put my foot in my mouth already with the first chapter. Still, I'll work with what I got ;]  
AH but the issue is here that stupid Lhye started writing again on the computer that will be in a trash heap in about a week and a half. So I must start posting.

I'm a fan of Kyu/Katsu, so that might work its way in here :] Opinions? Kyuzo will, however, most likely stay male.

* * *

Jauntily, Heihachi wound a string around a new teruterubozu's neck, humming as she went and sitting on a fence. Komachi had marveled at the one attached to his sword, so of course, she couldn't resist making one for the little girl.

"What's that for?" Shichiroji took a seat beside her.

"For Komachi." Heihachi winked. "I think she'll like it."

"Of course she will." He smiled, and unwrapped several rice balls. "Want one?"

"What kind of question is that?" Heihachi tucked the unfinished teru carefully into her pocket. Eagerly accepting the offering, she bit into the sweet rice with relish. "Awhh....I _love_ Kanna...."

"You love the rice." Shichiroji corrected with a lighthearted smile.

"Naturally." Heihachi smiled, adding, "But I love the village too."

"Is your birthplace like this?" He took a rice ball himself and lay the bundle between them.

"Nope. Nothing like it." Heihachi licked a grain of rice stuck to the top of her finger. "I was born in a city a good way south. It was about the size of Kougakyo. Maybe larger."

"Really?"

"Mmhmm." Heihachi's voice was somewhat muffled by a large bite of rice. "Well, I born the fourth and last of my parent's children."

Chuckling, Shichiroji asked, "Brothers or sisters?"

"Three sisters." Heihachi smiled, "Six, four, and two years older."

"Very curious." With interest, and a hint of teasing, he held his chin between his fingers as if musing something very serious. "So what went wrong with _you_?"

Heihachi laughed. "That's a good question. But who knows? I always felt more comfortable that way. We were a samurai family, and I was the only one who bothered to take it up. My parents didn't complain."

Listening, Shichiroji leaned forward, resting his elbows on his legs. "I suppose they wouldn't."

Heihachi smiled and nodded. Her companion gave a quick study of her face, and then asked, "Hei-san, you're younger than most samurai. Did you really enlist that young?"

"Eh? Oh, no, of course not." Heihachi waved a hand. "Remember when the armies ordered every samurai family to send at least one child?"

"Oh..." Shichiroji frowned.

With a laugh, Heihachi told him, "Guess who went? I mean, I had liked practicing with the swords, but didn't think I'd ever have to actually use them seriously. Didn't like that too much...but, well, if they had to send one of their daughters, it might as well be the one who could fight."

"You weren't on the front lines, though, isn't that right?."

Heihachi chirped, "Nope. I was a tad young, you know? Only 15 at the time. The officials knew that I was a female, but my parents told me to dress like a boy and act it. It was more comfortable that way anyhow. When they found I was suited to mechanical work, that's where I was put."

The two of them stayed quiet for the remainder of their lunch. The silence was easy, the mood set by the distant calling of birds. Upon finishing her portion of rice, Heihachi finished tying the teruterubozu and set it by her side. She then stared out over the landscape, from the cliff upon which they sat.

For now, it was just the two of them in the village along with Gorobei, who was doing something elsewhere. Kambei and Katsushiro had traveled to the city to bring back more samurai.

Since the end of the war, many wandering samurai had turned to thievery, pillaging villages and taking whatever they could. Peasants and farmers had taken to hiring other samurai to protect them, for the price of food and shelter. However, Kanna had encountered more trouble than they had expected.

Even with the skill of the five impressive samurai they had already encountered, the regular assault of the bandits was proving quite formidable. The wise Elder instructed Kambei, their most trusted, to travel to the city and bring back two more samurai, leaving the judgement of their worth up to the ex-Commander.

Taking his eager disciple with him, Kambei did as the Elder asked and began the travel back to Kougakyo to locate two more samurai to bring back. He left the village's well being in the capable hands of his old 'wife' and the two others he trusted nearly as much.

Shichiroji caught the thoughtful expression on Heihachi's face. She seemed to be reflecting on the past, and not looking terribly enthusiastic about it. Feeling slightly responsible for her presumably bitter thoughts, he broke in, "So after the war...you didn't want to go back to your family?"

"Not really." Heihachi told him. "I mean, by the time I got out of the war, I was already 21. An adult...and I didn't really feel the need to go back to them. I preferred to let them think I was dead or something."

Surprised, Shichiroji asked, "Why would you let them think that? What parents would be alright thinking their child died in war?"

After a long moment, the young woman issued another laugh that sounded less convincing, and shrugged. "Well...I don't think I was quite as...._valued_...as my sisters."

"What makes you say that?"

Scratching her cheek uncomfortably, she responded, "My oldest sister got married shortly before I was called to war. The second daughter had a possible engagement already coming around, and the third looked promising at 17. They'd be taken care of."

Shichiroji felt he could see where this was going. "And you didn't want to get married?"

Shaking her head, Heihachi replied, "There's only so many things the daughter of a samurai family can do. And I wasn't that interested in marriage. Of course, I'd do what my parents wanted. After all I got sent to war that way."

She interrupted herself with another awkward chuckle, and continued, "My sisters were all very pretty and very 'normal' girls. It would have been very difficult to marry _me_ off."

Shichiroji was about to comment until Heihachi stood, dangling the teruterubozu from between her fingers with a toothy smile. "If you'll excuse me, I have to find Komachi."

Blinking, perhaps a little stupefied, Shichiroji offered a slightly bewildered smile. "Sure..."

Walking off humming some song the other samurai couldn't quite place, Heihachi kept the practiced smile on her face. Looking over his shoulder at the shrinking figure, Shichiroji dropped the grin off his face. Somehow, he suspected this cheeriness was a little too convenient.

Still, the fact that Heihachi had purposely given him no room to speak, and left before he could say anything else, signaled that she was not too interested in discussing her past. And so he decided to leave it alone. It was none of his business.

* * *

"Yaaaaaaaaay!"

Komachi threw her arms around Heihachi's waist, the precious teruterubozu clutched in her small hand. Heihachi chuckled and pat the little girl on the head.

"Thank you so much, Heihachi-sama!" She first beamed at her prize, and then at the samurai's face.

"Welcome" Heihachi smiled cheerfully, as Kirara stepped outside, curious at Komachi's loud excitement.

Her sister hurried over to show off her gift, at which the mikumari smiled warmly. Kirara turned to Heihach and bowed, respectfully telling him, "Thank you very much for your kindness."

"Oh, it's no problem." Heihachi bowed and sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. "Really, don't mention it."

Komachi quickly urged Kirara to hang it up somewhere. As the young priestess fastened the little ghost to the top of their windowpane, Heihachi's gaze lingered on the girl before he slipped away.

* * *

I'm afraid this chapter was a litle thin. I don't like it too much...very choppy, too much dialogue and not much else. It originally went on, but the scene continued too long, so I broke it up into two parts.

Incidentally, I made my own teruterubozu out of a ping pong ball, a cut-up shirt, and a sharpie. It looks evil...but I'm sure it'll protect me. :)


	3. Competition for what?

As before, Hei-san is being casually referred to as either 'he/she', or 'him/her', etc, because of course, no one knows.

* * *

She hadn't actually thought about her family in a long time, she realized as she wandered through the fields. Her decision had been somewhat painful at first, but now, Heihachi couldn't say she missed them all that much. It was a matter of time; after eleven years away from them, they weren't on the forefront of her mind. And in all honesty, she didn't remember them all that-

"AHA! There you are!"

Heihachi yet out a strangled cry as he was grabbed from behind.

As a little girl, she had spent considerably more time with the neighborhood boys than learning how to cook and sew with her sisters. So when she was pulled into a spontaneous wrestling match, it was natural for her to step in line with it.

Heihachi struggled as best as she could, putting up a decent fight. However, she was ultimately, with a yelp and a thud, tossed to the floor. Fumbling clumsily on the ground, trying to find leverage, she finally had her face pushed uncomfortably into the grass and groaned as she was effectively pinned on her stomach.

Like she really expected to outmatch Gorobei anyway, who was sitting triumphantly atop her back.

"Alright, alright, I give...."

* * *

Quickly brushing off their clothes, Heihachi passed a jaunty smile to Gorobei. She didn't ask about why she had been jumped. She knew that there needed to be absolutely no reason to assault someone for the pure fun of it. It was something she had picked up during her childhood spent running between streets and through alleys with boys around her age.

"Heihachi-dono." Gorobei winked, "I saw the way you looked at the priestess, you know."

"Whaaaaaaaat?" Heihachi shook his hands. "It's nothing like that, really."

Truly...it wasn't. Heihachi was very sure of it.

"Then what was it about?" Gorobei smiled, not pushing his presumption, but curious all the same.

"Well, I had three sisters back home..." Heihachi smiled sentimentally.

"Ah, a little homesickness hitting you?" Gorobei smiled and received a nod as an answer. "That I can understand."

They parted ways after a brief chat, and Heihachi couldn't help but feel slightly guilty. She hadn't exactly lied, but she hadn't exactly told the truth, either. 'Homesick' wasn't precisely what she was feeling, but it was something like that. However, it was easier to leave it simply at that.

After bringing up some of her childhood to Shichiroji, she was remembering more and more of it. Every thought led to a branch of new ones, little nuances of her as a little girl that she hadn't though about in years.

Heihachi had spent her younger days wrestling with boys. She kept her hair short, didn't think twice about her dirty nails. She marveled at machines, and spent her spare time hanging around the garages and industrial factories that littered their neighborhood. The workers there knew her and paid no mind to the little round-faced, redheaded girl that bounced freely around their shops. They liked the humble little enthusiast with the bright smile, and every now and then Heihachi would come home to her parents with a piece of candy or a spare screw or bolt someone passed onto her. Eventually, she had built quite a collection.

Experimentally, she began poking around the swords and other weapons that were kept in the home of her samurai family. Enticed by this interest in his youngest daughter, the father took to teaching her properly.

True, she liked leaning how to wield a katana, but more than that, young Heihachi liked the proud smile her father gave her whenever he saw improvement. It was a hobby, but not a passion.

But even at that age, Heihachi had understood the clear cut difference between her sisters and herself, and could see the rift between herself and her parents. They were an affectionate, happy family, but she was not naive so as to believe her behavior was entirely becoming to them. Girls were expected to act a certain way. And she didn't perform in that sense. She bewildered her parents, who had borne nothing but daughters, the last of which acted vastly closer to a boy.

So diligently, she practiced with her blade. Later in life, she would think it ironic that the ruse to please her parents would save her life from the time she was tossed into war.

Seeing Kirara reminded Heihachi of her sisters; pretty, intelligent, _graceful_ girls with classy poise and enticing smiles. Even visually, she was set apart from them; they were taller and slender than their sister, had faces adorned with wide, dark eyes and a head of smooth, dark hair from their equally refined mother. Heihachi, on the other hand, had thick, messy auburn hair such as their father, accompanied by a plain face, narrower eyes, and not nearly the allure of her elder sisters as she developed into a young woman.

After all, Heihachi thought as she bent down to peer at a curious hole in the dirt under a tree(was that a rabbit hole? Or a raccoon? Wait, did raccoons burrow underground....?), her sisters had delicate features. Their figures were attractive, but they had a lighter build. Heihachi, on the other hand, was noted teasingly but affectionately, by the girls at the expense of their red-faced baby sister, to be more 'well-endowed', with larger breasts, a round face, wide hips, and a big-

Yelping as her rear was slapped, Heihachi stood straight up, instinctively swerving her hands over her backside and whirling around. She turned bright red at Shichiroji's playful laugh, his offending hand now resting innocently on his waist.

"I was looking for you." Shichiroji smiled. "Almost time for dinner."

"Oh...." Heihachi blinked several times, and mentioned casually with an uneasy smile, "And, Shichiroji-dono....please keep your hands off my butt."

"But you were leaning over like that, it was right there." Shichiroji winked and threw his arm around Heihachi's neck, directing her to walk with him on the way back to the village.

"Still..." Heihachi mumbled, embarrassed, her bottom lip slightly pushed out in a pout. To be treated like 'one of the guys' was perfectly fine with her. But now that the older man knew she was a female, it was a little different in her eyes.

"Alright, alright." Shichiroji flipped his palms outward in surrender. "I won't slap your butt anymore. No matter how big it is."

Heihachi winced. She got it, _she got it_, she had a big butt, why did he think she chose such bulky clothes to begin with?

"But if you pout like that," Shichiroji smirked. "You'll force someone have to think of a way to make you smile again."

Gulping, Heihachi quickly bit her lips, and Shichiroji laughed, oblivious to the renewed flush on her round cheeks.

"You get bored when Kambei's not around, don't you?" Heihachi accused, her eyebrows raising.

"Bored?"

"Or more, he keeps you in line." The corner of Heihachi's lip quirked into a grin. "Your behavior has become a bit unscrupulous. Something of a pervert."

"A pervert!?" Shichiroji blinked, staring as if offended. "I'm no pervert!"

"Sure...."

"You should talk about 'unscrupulous'." Shichiroji pulled his arm tighter around Heihachi's neck jokingly, effectively reigning her in closer. "You sure seem to become quite thoughtful when see some of the women."

It took several seconds before the joke connected, and Heihachi protested, "Wait a second here! I'm not interested in ladies, you know!"

Shichiroji laughed, having obviously not meant it, and then commented, "So does that mean you're interested in men?"

"Never said I wasn't." Heihachi glanced up to see a crafty smile on Shichiroji's face, and quickly added, "But I never said I was interested in _any_ kind of romance, either."

"Well, no one's brought up the prospect of a romance to you either, have they?"

No, Heihachi thought, and instantly felt regretful of her last comment, feeling quite the fool.

"If it ever does happen though," Shichiroji told Heihachi as he released the woman from his arm, "Tell me."

"What for?"

"So I can beat them off and away." Shichiroji chuckled.

Did she really seem that meek of a person? Heihachi blinked in puzzlement. Not that much of a surprise. People had often made a point of telling her how timid she was...she had never been that fond of confrontation, so she supposed it was only natural. Still, who exactly did Shichiroji think was about to go after _her?_

"Well, thanks for the offer." Heihachi quirked an eyebrow. "But I don't think you have much to worry about."

"Oh....really? I don't, now?" Shichiroji smiled, his smile a little too cunning for Heihachi to feel comfortable. Was she missing something?

"Nope..."

"No competition at all?"

...Competition? What competition? For what, exactly? Heihachi kicked a pebble in her path and watched it skid off into the bushes. "Nah. I don't think so."

With another ambiguous grin, Shichiroji stared down the road. "Good to hear."

Curious, Heihachi stole a glance at her companion's face. What was so good to hear, again?

Part of her wanted to ask, but she gave up. She had never completely understood men, anyway.

* * *

Shichiroji can't keep his hands to himself either, much like Kambei, right? Maybe they're friends for a reason.

Heihachi, he wants you to tell him if anyone tries to romance you so he can keep them away from you, so he can keep you for himself! Don't you see that!? Ah, it's not really confirmed. He's just flirting, playing around. But who knows...? ;]  
Things are just passing straight over Heihachi's head, aren't they?


	4. The Day and Night in Kougakyo

*twitches* This is the fourth posting today. I'm in a frenzy to get everything I have already written posted, so I don't lose things. My writing is all on the computer...and this computer is getting thrown out. See what I'm getting at? I saved the files on a disk, but you know computers...-grumbles- compatability...memory...rawr...  
So, that means I should see a lot of reviews, right? ;]

* * *

During the summer, the days in Kougakyo were sweltering. The closely packed clusters of buildings, the numerous factories, and the streets swarming with rivulets of people from morning til night made the air sticky. The sun cast down heavily on the busy city today. Wiping a moist glaze of sweat from his brow, Katsushiro took a glance at a thermometer dangling in a storefront window.

Eighty-nine degrees. An unusually high temperature, Kambei commented; it wasn't typically so warm in Kougakyo.

Katsushiro cast his wearied eyes on the face of his master. How could this man keep himself so composed? Kambei had to be as uncomfortable as he was.

With a small smile, Kambei lay his hand on Katsushiro's shoulder and directed him into the welcome shade of a nearby teahouse. He had apparently caught the exhaustion in his student. "Let's stop here for some lunch."

Inside, the small restaurant was kept cool and shaded. They were shown by a friendly waiter to a table towards the back wall.

"Katsushiro." Kambei addressed him, sitting across the table. "I think it would be more effective to split up and search for samurai. We've already been here two days, and we need to hasten ourselves to return to Kanna."

"Yes." Katsushiro agreed, and drank the water the waiter brought. It was cold, and he gratefully drained it down his parched throat.

"It's mid-afternoon." Kambei continued. "We'll search individually for the rest of today. Come back to our lodgings at midnight."

* * *

An unsuccessful several hours had gone by. The deep afternoon was beginning to subdue itself in the wake of the evening, and the skies dimmed with the promise of an especially dark night. In the city, this darkness was of course combated with lights and such. Still, if nothing else, Katsushiro was grateful for the coolness of the evening. Without the sun, the temperature dropped dramatically at least ten degrees.

However, he had not been able to find anyone to help. His master had felt that the extra hired swords were not necessary. But he had received the orders of the Elder who spoke for the people and hired them, and he intended to fulfill them.

After asking four samurai, Katsushiro had turned up with nothing. Kambei had instructed him to be very selective. There was no use wasting time asking people whom they couldn't trust and who were mediocre samurai.

So, being as discerning as he could, he had only asked four, all of whom had declined. He was feeling disheartened and somewhat as if he had downright failed. It was almost seven o clock. It was unlikely that he was going to find someone now, and he was an hour away from their lodgings.

He paused to sit and think at a public bench and eat some rice he had brought with him. Chewing thoughtfully, he wondered to where he could go next. He had wandered nearly aimlessly up and down the eastern flank of Kougakyo. He supposed he could try and head for the south of the city. It was the 'tourist' place in the city. More entertainment establishments were there, as well as more inns and markets exhibiting foreign goods. More travelers passed through there, so there could be wandering samurai lingering.

Folding the cloth he had carried the rice balls in back into his pack, Katsushiro stood decisively and headed south.

* * *

Striding down the brightly lit street, Katsushiro acknowledged that his detour took him almost another hour away from the inn where he and Kambei stayed. It was nearing eight o clock and he had an hour and a half walk back; he only had about two hours.

Realizing this, he let out a heavy sigh. It was unrealistic that he find someone here within that time.

Still, he didn't quite give up hope yet, and he glanced around. He was discouraged to realize there weren't many samurai around here. It was the entertainment district, and he couldn't help but gaze around at the blazing electric signs and energetic staff waiting outside their shops and such, trying to entice passerby inside.

It was about time for dinner; most people would probably partake in the many restaurants.

Deciding to search them, he quickly entered the nearest. Glancing around, he found no one interesting. He then checked several others, only walking in to examine the people inside, and if no samurai, he swiftly exited.

Once, as he scanned the patrons, a kindly waitress questioned, "Are you lost, young man? Looking for your parents?"

"I'm eighteen." He defended in slightly offended tone.

"O...Oh....forgive me..."

Did he really look so young?

With a sigh, Katsushiro lifted the flap at the door and stepped outside. No one...

Coincidentally, he turned his head and caught sight of a samurai exiting a restaurant several doors down.

He only had a glimpse at the harsh face before the person turned and began walking down the street; but something in it held his attention.

With a slight sense of awe, Katsushiro stared, his mouth falling a bit open, at the formidable looking figure disappearing down the street.

Quickly, he took off after them. The crowds were thick and the street noisy with the sound of chatter and laughter and music. He struggled to slip his way between the people, his eyes fixated on the street ahead.

Katsushiro kept snatching glimpses of the distinctive red coat, the thicket of blonde hair, and the slender figure of a samurai he was anxious to meet.

But this person was elusive, and for almost ten blocks he continued this frenzied chase. Then there was a break in the crowds, and he was able to make out their form a good distance away.

Hurriedly, he ran after the samurai, dodging people and the occasional cart. This warrior had apparently walked faster than him; having slithered through the crowds in a manner more graceful than he.

About a block away, he paused for only an instant. The red coated figure turned a corner into an alley. Katsushiro swallowed, determined, and continued his pursuit.

Without much thought, he dove into the same alley the person had disappeared into. A wave of that enticing red cloak flashed in the corner of his eye before it flitted out of sight.

It was like attempting to catch a fish with your bare hands!, Katsushiro thought and rushed through the narrow alley.

He had barely turned the corner when he nearly collided with a person standing right there.

Stopping dead in his tracks, Katsushiro stared at the red-clothed chest inches from his nose. His eyes slowly turning upwards, they then widened at the sight of a very severe looking face staring down at him. The crimson eyes regarded him with suspicion.

Slightly out of breath, Katsushiro stepped back several paces from the warrior. Quizzical, Katsushiro ran his eyes over the slender, shapely figure several times.

"Are...you a man...or a woman...?" He wanted to say, in near disbelief. But he then noticed that the androgyne samurai was reaching for his/her swords.

"W..wait.." Katsushiro tried weakly to protest.

To the end of his life, the young samurai would have never been able to narrate precisely what happened.

In a flash, not one, but two swords, were in frightening position. The end of one was so near his throat, he felt the sharpened tip prick his skin. The second, glinting equally as menacingly, was pressing its cold talon against his right arm; should he reach for his own katana, Katsushiro was very aware he would lose his hand.

* * *

The idea of Katsushiro pursuing a 'woman' like Kyuzo would be interesting. But since I just finished a long story about a female Kyuzo, I feel like writing him as a man...but while I'm deciding, I'll milk the ambiguity for humor value :)


	5. And so I followed

The sad part is, I'm coming up with more ideas about this part of the story than the Shichi/Heihachi. But the well is not dry ;)  
As I said, I'm just posting what I already had written on the computer.

_

* * *

In a flash, not one, but two swords, were in frightening position. The end of one was so near his throat, he felt the sharpened tip prick his skin. The second, glinting equally as menacingly, was pressing its cold talon against his right arm; should he reach for his own katana, Katsushiro was very aware he would lose his hand._

Effectively paralyzed, he struggled to think of a way to save himself.

"You've been following me." The deep voice trembled from the samurai's lips, and a chill ran up Katsushiro's spine. Such utter menace and power laced that tone, it impended obedience.

He had known he was being followed? From all the way back at the restaurants? Katsushiro was surprised, but he realized it also indicated how skilled the samurai was.

Now wasn't the time for further gender-guessing....

Those very cold eyes narrowed. "Assassin."

" What?! N...No..." Katsushiro swallowed. "I'm not an assassin!"

Now it was the tall warrior's turn to examine the boy before them. Katsushiro tried to appear as non-threatening as possible as he felt such a calculating gaze analyze his demeanor. Finally, he felt the weight of the steel pressed against the inside of his wrist lift, and the swords were placed back in their sheath.

"Fine." The warrior told him curtly, and turned to walk away.

Katsushiro rubbed at his neck, wiping the speck of blood drawn from the sword so dangerously to his throat. He still felt the imprint of the blade pressed to his wrist, and he stared after the departing figure.

It wasn't anything unexpected to say Katsushiro felt slightly frightened of the clearly volatile warrior who had, he would admit, just spared his life. He had no doubt that if that woman, or man, had decided he wasn't worth the mercy, he'd be on the floor in pieces.

The hair on the back of Katsushiro's neck rose from the thought. Yet, there was something pulling him towards the samurai walking away. He stared at the slender back as it disappeared further and further away into the alley.

It was pure foolishness to pursue him/her. Yet, it could be an incredible waste to let a skilled samurai go like that. And part of Katsushiro was driving him to please his master, whom he so respected. Somehow, it had become a challenge; convince this powerful samurai to come back with them.

Could he survive a second encounter with this blizzard of a person?

"Wait!"

Katsushiro called after the samurai and again began running after him/her.

"Please, wait a minute!"

His boyish voice echoed in the canyon of the alley. Catching the samurai again could still be difficult.

Just barely, under the dim lights of the lamps buzzing and flickering at random intervals in the narrow space, Katsushiro caught sight of the samurai glance curiously. From a narrow space between two buildings, a cat crept out, hissing at Katsushiro as he passed by. Startled, he turned, only to let out a yelp of surprise as he crashed into a trash can and bowled over onto the cold alley floor.

Ignoring the tingling bruises to his palms, Katsushiro immediately rose to his feet. To his dismay, however, the man/woman had kept walking, and he hurried.

It seemed that the warrior had chosen not to disregard him completely, and walked slowly enough so Katsushiro could catch up.

Under the penetrating stare, Katsushiro could see the same question reflected in those otherwise apathetic eyes as was burning in his own head. _Why_ would he, after just being spared, chase after someone who nearly took his life the first time?

Bowing respectfully, he introduced himself, "My name is Okamoto Katsushiro. May I have the honor of your name?"

"No."

Thrown off a little, but not discouraged, he pleaded, "Forgive me. May I ask you for a minute of your time?"

Risking a look up, Katsushiro received a short nod.

"Thank you." He stood straight up and tried to look as formal as possible. "I've been employed by the village of Kanna to protect them from the wandering bandits that have been terrorizing peasants. However, they requested we come to Kougakyo to bring back two more samurai."

Pausing to let that mull over in the samurai's mind, Katsushiro took a look at the man/woman whose gaze was set squarely on him. He flushed deeply, composure almost lost. That face was so very intimidating!

"I would be honored if you would accompany me back as one of those two samurai." Katsushiro confirmed.

"Can't help."

"W...wha....?"

The man/woman brushed past Katsushiro, narrowly avoiding the stupefied trainee.

Turning quickly, watching again the impressive figure gracefully sweep away, the poor boy was at a loss.

Well, he had tried....but...

Again, Katsushiro took chase, for a third time. "Please! Wait!"

This time the pursuit ended at the exit of the network of back streets, and Katsushiro emerged back into the brightly lit bustle of the main streets.

Desperately, he looked around in all directions. Where had that red coat gone to?

"Here."

Whirling around, Katsushiro felt foolish to see the samurai of tall stature leaning against the wall. Finally able to get a good look at the person in the light, he could see the deeply crimson coat, the pale skin, the blonde hair. Everything suggested strength and power lay dormant behind that chilling, passive face. But before he could recover from his fascination to say anything, the samurai again took off down the street.

Utterly bewildered, Katsushiro followed. After all, if the samurai had waited for him, he was going to listen more, right?

Finally catching up to the man/woman's side, Katsushiro stole a glance up again. Perhaps annoyed, red eyes stared back down at him. Suddenly, the poor boy felt very small.

For several blocks, they walked side by side. Even the dignified pose demanded respect, and the young man kept away his eyes. Once, out of clumsiness, Katsushiro bumped his shoulder against the samurai, and he quickly stammered, "I'm sorry, forgive me."

"You're following me."

"Because I wanted to ask you...." Katsushiro gulped. What did he want to ask? He had already tried. "Well, I wanted to see if I could convince you to come with us. Please....I'm sorry to ask again, but...your name? What do I call you?"

After a moment, he finally got an answer. "Kanon."

"Well, Kanon-dono." Katsushiro smiled. His attempt at an official demeanor failed again under his natural boyishness. "Is there any way I may persuade you to join our cause in defending Kanna?"

Was that a sigh that escaped Kanon's lips?

"Where's your master?"

"My....master?" Katsushiro repeated, blinking.

The samurai replied, "A boy your age wouldn't be by himself. Fifteen? Sixteen years?"

"...E-Eighteen years old." Katsushiro felt his dignity crack. His face turned red. "And...yes, my master came with me to the city. But he's not with me at the moment. We split up to search for samurai."

"Why me?" This boy's persistence had quickly become irritating.

"Because you seem so incredibly strong." Katsushiro beamed admirably up at the experienced samurai.

Eyebrow raised, the blonde told him, "All I did was draw."

Quite true. That really was the only display of skill Katsushiro had witnessed. And apparently, already he had forgotten that they had been aimed at him. Blushing, feeling very foolish again, Katsushiro shook his head, eyes to the floor. "But...I'm certain. You must be powerful."

He received no answer, and he continued wordlessly walking. For as long as Kanon would permit him to tag along, he'd try to convince the samurai to come with him. That's what Katsushiro decided, and he followed closely by the red warrior's side, barely paying mind to where they were headed.

However, a glance at a large clock built on the top of a lamppost told him it was almost nine-thirty. He had to hurry.

"Please." He tried again. "We could use your help."

Kanon peered at him apathetically out of the corner of his/her eyes, as if he were a caterpillar crawling up the wall.

Katsushiro doubted there was much else he could say, and in all honesty he didn't have much to bargain with. He had no idea of what kind of life the samurai Kanon led in this city. It could be difficult to convince the woman/man to travel all the way out to Kanna from anywhere between a few weeks and a few months(this kind of hiring villages did of samurai usually rotated based on warriors who died or decided to leave), and all he could offer was rice and shelter, essentially. Kanna was among one of the poorer villages.

The samurai seemed to be considering. Katsushiro watched anxiously.

"How many?"

"We have five samurai in Kanna right now." He answered. "And we're here for two more, as I said before."

Apparently, there wasn't much incentive for Kanon, Katsushiro felt. It was entirely up to the samurai as to whether or not she/he'd come.

Suddenly, Katsushiro realized that they had been walking back up to the northern part of the city. This was quite the stroke of luck, he felt. If Kanon was walking this way, he was closer to the inn where he and Kambei were staying, which meant he had more time to convince the samurai to come with them.

"Find someone else."

Crushed once again, Katsushiro stopped dead in his tracks to stare at the figure again walking away from him.

He got no answer, and daringly, perhaps foolishly, he leaned forward and grabbed the slender arm. "But why? Please, listen to-"

Stupid indeed. Katsushiro cried out as his arm was snatched in a vicelike grip and all at once, Kanon's harsh face was inches away from his. Startled, in pain from the hand clamping hard onto his wrist, and staring at a very angered pair of icy eyes, Katsushiro nearly trembled.

"I _already_ listened. Do not touch me." Kanon snarled under his/her breath.

Meekly, Katsushiro nodded and whispered. "I'm sorry."

The hand stayed clenched onto his wrist, but the pressure alleviated slightly. The much taller samurai stood straight up. Clearly irate now, the veteran demanded, "Why are you trying so hard?"

"I...." Why _was_ he? Katsushiro flushed deeply. He didn't quite understand. Had it been anyone else, he would have let it go by now. Bowing his head down, embarrassed, he said quietly, "I'm not sure."

His master was much better at convincing people. Perhaps if he could at least introduce Kanon to Kambei, he strengthened the chances of winning the assistance of the fighter. Katsushiro had also never been one to be considered easy on himself. He was aware he did not give off the assuring presence his master did. Nothing in his face or his overall persona alluded to quiet wisdom or enticed people to automatically offerdeep respect or trust to him like Kambei.

Perhaps, Katsushiro reasoned, if the seasoned warrior did not take _him_ seriously, an obvious novice, he would Kambei, someone on his level. Or, at least someone a little closer in age.

"But..." Katsushiro looked up, and was surprised to see a hint of amusement in Kanon's eyes. He almost lost his train of thought, suddenly entranced with them. Still staring, he asked, "...will you at least come to meet my sensei?"

A long moment drifted by. Katsushiro noted that his hand wrist was still caught in the trap of Kanon's hand, and he bit his lip. It made him feel awkward. But it reminded him constantly of the power contained in this warrior, and it made him all the more determined.

"Very well."

Katsushiro's face lit up into a smile. Kanon dropped Katsushiro's hand.

With a deep bow, Katsushiro began walking again with the tall samurai. "Thank you very much for the chance, Kanon-dono."

"Kanon's not my name."

"What!?" Katsushiro blinked.

"I gave you a fake name." The warrior admitted shamelessly. "It's Kyuzo."

* * *

Oh, already the signs....  
The difficult part is writng Kambei and Kyuzo together without the romantic tension. :/ Hm.


	6. I was a little clumsy, that's all

With all the effectiveness without all the grace, Heihachi rolled to the side, just barely keeping his awkward balance enough so he could quickly sit up again. In a flash, his sword was cutting a wide arc over his head with both hands and clashing with the one of the Yakkan attacking him.

Deftly, he landed a solid kick, connecting with a hollow thud and sending it back a few feet. Quickly, he thrust his blade forward, cutting deep into the thick metal and abandoning the scene as the machine exploded behind his.

About two dozen bandits had attacked earlier. Although troublesome, this particular troupe was poorly organized, clearly not expecting to encounter resistance. The three samurai would likely have little trouble with them. The real task was keeping them away from the heart of the village, where the people cowered in their homes.

Running through the tall grass, Heihachi let out a yelp as something tangled around his foot and he came crashing down between the high yellow stalks. Groaning as he hit the ground flat on his belly, he quickly propped herself up on his arm.

Rubbing his face and looking around for his sword, he muttered, "Can't believe I just tripped like that..."

His katana was lost among the grass, and he attempted to reach around for it. Heihachi realized his foot was still tangled, and hurriedly, he twisted herself around to free himself.

However, fortune wasn't with him, and Heihachi rapidly discovered that was wrapped around his ankle was not a tangle of tall grass, but a Yakkan's steely hand.

This was not good.

Heihachi's first instinct was to try and jerk his leg free, but the bandit made it clear this wasn't going to happen, and when he tried to roll over onto his back, the intense grip on his leg proved that he didn't even have that much leverage.

Blood pounded harshly in Heihachi's chest, and he watched the sword raise high above the Yakkan's flat top. Either he would be cleaved in two or he'd lose a leg; frantically, he turned over onto his side, at least able to twist his torso.

The blade came swinging down, and just barely, Heihachi swerved out from under its path, and as it struck ground, he made the risky maneuver to grip it by the top of the blade and throw his whole weight on it, so it couldn't be lifted again.

"Let go of my sword!"

"Let go of my _leg!_"

The two stared angrily at the other, each equally as defiant.

However, the draw was never decided as Gorobei's blade came piercing through the unit from the other side. Promptly, the grip on Heihachi's leg relaxed and he pulled it free.

"Thanks." Heihachi grinned up at his savior, who only laughed and shoved the bandit off his sword and onto the grass.

"Don't thank me, because I'll be sure to remember this later." Gorobei smirked as Heihachi crawled through the grass, kneeled and searching for his sword.

Gorobei tilted his head. "Heihachi-dono..."

"You see my sword?"

"No," Gorobei watched Heihachi roam around on the ground. "Did you know you have quite the round backside?"

Heihachi fell over, incredulously covering his face with both hands, and rolling dramatically over on his side, shouting, "I _know!_ I know, alright!? This isn't really the time to make fun of my butt!"

Gorobei laughed heartily. "Well someone's sensitive...anyway, that Yakkan the last of them. Our job is done for today."

Heihachi sighed and fell flat onto his back. "Oh. Good news. Rice time."

Gorobei shook his head fondly at his friend. Only when Heihachi sat up did he notice the wound on the man's shoulder. "Hey, you got injured."

"It's not that serious." The entertainer promised. "Need help finding your sword?"

"Nah." Heihachi flipped over again onto his knees, carefully keeping his rear closer to his ankles this time, and began looking through the grass.

"Teru....Teru...!" He called forlornly. "Where'd you go?"

"Be careful."

"What for? All the bandits are gone, right?"

"Well yes, but what I meant is, be careful pawing through the grass like that looking for an unsheathed sword-"

"OUCH!"

Gorobei sighed and rubbed the back of his head. "That's what I meant...."

* * *

"Teru betrayed me..." Heihachi complained as Kirara wrapped a strip of cloth around his still gloved hand.

Stifling a giggle, Kirara asked with a tone of laughter in her voice, "Are you sure you don't want me to just bandage it for you?"

"Oh, no, it's fine, I can do it myself." Heihachi smiled convincingly, encouraging her, "Please, go take care of Gorobei-dono. His injury is more serious and less embarrassing."

Kirara smiled and rose. "Very well then. I'll go see to him."

With a respectful bow, she turned and retreated back out of the hut.

With her gone, Heihachi quickly undid the makeshift bandage and very carefully, eased off her glove. The sword had sliced through her glove and left a cut straight across her entire palm, right under the lined joints of her fingers.

It took some patience and some time to pull off the glove without irritating the wound. She inspected it. The cut itself wasn't very deep, but it was annoying anyhow. At least it was her left hand.

Really, she thought as she wiped away at the dribbles of blood, it wasn't deep. Not bad.

However, she encountered a slight issue. After all, wrapping your own hand with bandages was not very effective. With a loud sigh, Heihachi wondered what to do now. She crossed her legs Indian style, and bit her bottom lip.

Examining her exposed left hand, Heihachi wondered if perhaps it was not a dead giveaway. She had dismissed Kirara's offer of help, but she settled on the fact that she needed it. Maybe she could simply tell a confused Kirara she had abnormally delicate-looking hands.

_What? Why, every male in my family has womanish hands! Runs in the family! Embarrassing, isn't it? _Heihachi rehearsed in her head, but ultimately sighed in defeat. No, no, would that really work?

"Oh boy...." She dabbed lightly at the drops of blood that trickled out. "I'm in trouble."

"Well, that's not a problem." Shichiroji smiled as he entered, catching Heihachi off guard. "Because I can help."

"Oh....er..." Blinking rapidly, Heihachi clenched her left hand, pressing the cloth to the slight wound with her fingertips. "I'll be alright."

"Now, now, don't be stubborn." Shichiroji chided and slipped off his shoes. "You can't wrap your own hand."

.....That was true.

Heihachi smiled and rested her right hand on her knee. The left, she held out, palm upwards to Shichiroji. "Then, if you don't mind..."

"Oh, I don't mind at all." Sitting in front of her, he cradled the hurt hand in his right palm, and inspected the wound. "By the way. I heard how this happened."

Heihachi's face turned red. "Oh. Well...er. You know."

Shichiroji lifted an eyebrow at her sheepish laughter and chuckled himself. "Clumsy, clumsy Hei-san."

"Indeed." Heihachi agreed cheerfully.

Shichiroji carefully wiped at the blood and began bandaging it with equal attention. Heihachi began to hum cheerfully, and curious, he asked, "Hey, you were humming that yesterday too, weren't you? What was it?"

"Oh, that?" With a smile, she announced, "It's that song that goes with the teruterubozu, remember?"

"Can't remember it."

"Really?" Heihachi seemed unbelieving. "Here, I'll sing it:"

_Teru-teru-bozu, teru bozu_  
_Do make tomorrow a sunny day_  
_Like the sky in a dream sometime_  
_If it's sunny I'll give you a golden bell_

_Teru-teru-bozu, teru bozu_  
_Do make tomorrow a sunny day_  
_If you make my wish come true_  
_We'll drink lots of sweet rice wine_

_Teru-teru-bozu, teru bozu_  
_Do make tomorrow a sunny day_  
_But if it's cloudy and you are crying_  
_Then I shall snip your head off_

"Now I got it ...." Shichiroji finished wrapping the bandage and secured it. "Hei-san..."

"Yeah?"

"You can't sing at all."

Heihachi flushed. "....No, I guess I can't."

"Oh come on now." Shichiroji teased. "Men won't marry a woman who can't sing."

"That's fine!" Heihachi laughed. "Not like I counted on my singing to get myself a husband! I've got bigger problems than that!"

Brushing it off, it didn't bother Heihachi a bit. But Shichiroji kept his eyes planted on her face. "You know, you really aren't as horrible to a man as you think."

"Eh?" Heihachi's chuckling was cut short, and her smile dropped in lieu of curiosity.

But Shichiroji didn't continue with that thought. Instead, he smiled. It would have almost been an innocent one, if it weren't for the comment, "Ah, this brings me back."

"What does?" Heihachi asked.

Waving his free hand, Shichiroji said casually, "This house. Remember?"

Oh. This...house. Heihachi blushed. Was it really only last week that this man had kissed her, in this very room?

Smiling ever more deviously at Heihachi's silent fluster, he mentioned, "Seems you do."

Heihachi stared at him. Partly speechless and partly mortified, she became caught under his stare, and again, the seconds seemed to stretch and stretch. Her finger twitched, and she noticed that her hand had been wrapped, but was still being held by his hand.

Quickly, she pulled it away, and winced at the shot of ache that came from the cut across her hand.

"What, am I that scary?" Shichiroji chuckled.

Scared wasn't the right word. But Heihachi felt intimidated when he looked at her, as if she were being judged for something she wasn't aware of.

"No, of course not." The smile quickly returned to her lips. She dared to keep her eyes on his face, as cheerful as ever.

"That's good." Shichiroji looked back at her, at ease.

They sat there, keeping a mutually friendly stare fixed on each other.

It must have been a minute. At least.

Finally, Heihachi blinked and rubbed the back of her head. "So um...."

"Hei-san, let me see your vest."

"Eh? What for?"

"Don't worry, no one will come in." Shichiroji assured her. "I just want to see something."

"Umm...alright then...."

Puzzled, but unable to find a real reason to refuse, Heihachi unbuckled the thick vest, and handed it over.

Shichiroji took the bulky garment in his hands and let it fall onto his lap. In a lazy tone, he asked, "Do you even keep anything in all these pockets?"

"Oh....no, not really." Heihachi chuckled. "They're mostly for show."

"Huh." Shichiroji stared in her direction for several seconds, appearing to be focused, but was not looking into her face. Oblivious, Heihachi waited, wondering what he could be thinking about.

"Well." Shichiroji rose and handed the vest back. Surprised, Heihachi took it and asked, "Umm...what was the point of that?"

"Of what?"

"Of asking to see my vest...." Heihachi's eyebrow lifted. Men were so strange sometimes.

"Nothing, just that you were right."

"...I was...right? About what?"

Shichiroji smirked. "They _are_ pretty big."

"......." Heihachi blinked cluelessly. Shichiroji's grin only spread wider, and he broke down into laughter when she gasped with realization.

Heihachi's eyes widened, and stupefied, her mouth dropped open. "Y-y-you were looking at my-!?"

Part of Shichiroji truly enjoyed the furious blush that stained Heihachi's cheeks, and he sent her a coy little smile. "Very impressive."

Heihachi was never one to turn to anger, and defensively crossed her arms over her chest, demanding, "Don't say things like that!"

Shrugging, Shichiroji smiled as Heihachi whirled around to tug her vest back on, mumbling all the while.

"That's not a gentlemanly thing to do." Huffing slightly, Heihachi worked a smile back onto her face as she turned back around to look back at him, the indignation still brewing under her quasi-amicable smile.

"Maybe not." Shichiroji admitted, "But it's sure fun to watch you get riled up."

The corner of Heihachi's lip twitched. "It shouldn't be fun. Why can't you be a normal guy?"

"Now _what_are you talking about?" Shichiroji chuckled. "I'm acting very much like a man. The only difference is I have a male friend who happens to be a woman."

"....That makes no sense." Heihachi shook her head with a dispirited sigh. "So that's basically an excuse to talk to me like a man while being...."

"Observant?"

"A lecher."

"Hey!"

With a snicker, Heihachi was beginning to regain her comfort. That's exactly what it was. He was her friend talking like a man, simply around a woman. It would seem that he thought of her no different as before.

* * *

Oh, poor Heihachi. Shichiroji is proving to be every bit the lecher Kambei is. Maybe now that she knows what she's up against she can be a little more aware.

Does anyone remember when anime used to have character image songs? I don't know if S7 did it, but a lot of them did. I think if they did....Kyuzo's would be purely instrumental.

By the way, the teruterubozu song is real, I got it off wikipedia. :)


	7. Stay

Having arrived at the inn where he and Kambei were staying, Katsushiro brought Kyuzo to their room. Now the two sat patiently in the room. Katsushiro had offered tea, but it was declined.

Instead, the elegant samurai sat by the window and stared outside. Privately, Katsushiro sipped his tea and gazed at the figure he had been able to at least convince this far. He was in constant awe of this person; Kyuzo's presence itself was impressive. But there was a certain enigmatic grace that Katsushiro noticed about the slender warrior. It intrigued him.

Letting his mind wander, Katsushiro wondered exactly how powerful this samurai was.

And he still wondered exactly...what gender Kyuzo was. He hadn't quite been able to gather enough clues.

"Stop staring at me." Kyuzo wasn't even looking at him, and was aware.

Katsushiro flushed and stared instead into his teacup. "Excuse me."

They sat there for a while longer. Glancing at the clock, Katsushiro saw it was about eleven. Kambei could walk in soon, but he was really only expected at midnight, as he had told Kyuzo.

Trying to make conversation, Katsushiro asked, "You were in the war, Kyuzo-dono?"

A nod. And that was it. Something of a rejection for further discussion. And Katsushiro didn't bother to ask more about it.

He sighed. There was this compulsion to speak with Kyuzo, although he had already gathered that this person was not very verbal. If he continued to provoke the warrior with attempts at talking, she/he might get irritated enough to leave.

"Stop staring."

Katsushiro flushed at the reminder. He hadn't even been aware his eyes had turned to Kyuzo again. This time, he was being stared at back. It was making him quite nervous. Kyuzo had quite the menacing glare.

"Forgive me." He said quietly. But he felt mesmerized, as if he were staring into the glorious eyes of a wolf, or a tiger, some kind of ferocious but beautiful wild animal.

For a long minute, the two gazed at each other, for entirely different reasons. Kyuzo was growing impatient with being stared at, and decided Katsushiro needed to see how _he_ liked it. The poor boy was just too intimidated to dare look away, as if he were expecting Kyuzo to suddenly lunge at his throat. And with those swords kept so close at all times...well....Kyuzo _could_ lunge at his throat.

Katsushiro felt slightly apprehensive, but fascinated. It was unclear what was going through Kyuzo's mind; those crimson eyes were blank but so full of..._something_.

Katsushiro dropped his gaze, feeling vulnerable. "I'm sorry I was trying so hard to convince you. I realize it upset you. But...we need to hurry back to Kanna as soon as we can."

His words hung into the air, but another stolen glance told Katsushiro they had indeed reached Kyuzo. The warrior seemed to be thinking.

Suddenly, Kyuzo's eyebrow quirked, and the silent warrior rose from his seat. Curious, Katsushiro watched as the man, (as he decided to assume for now), steadily came towards him. He flinched slightly, unsure of what this unpredictable person was going to do.

As it happened, Kyuzo stopped short of the boy kneeling still in front of the table. He looked down as Katsushiro looked up at him curiously.

Then Kyuzo's boot came out of nowhere, stepping on Katsushiro's shoulder, a shove of those powerful leg muscles enough to send the boy to the floor with seemingly little effort.

Letting out a surprised yelp, Katsushiro instinctively tried to sit up, but Kyuzo wouldn't allow it. His foot stayed firmly planted on Katsushiro's shoulder, pinning him flat on his back.

"Stay."

At the stern order, Katsushiro looked past the long leg keeping him strongly underfoot. Kyuzo had his arms crossed over his chest, and stared down at him. There was the impression of a snake looking down at a mouse and wondering if it was big enough to bother devouring alive. The mouse didn't like this idea.

Suddenly, the top of Kyuzo's lip curled into a grin. "I'll go to Kanna."

Fear washed away, Katsushiro smiled. "Really?"

Kyuzo nodded. But he did not take his foot off Katsushiro, effectively keeping him stapled to the floor. He didn't even try to fight back, instead looking very much like a kitten. Curious, his green eyes blinked once, twice, and waited, not even having the nerve to demand his release.

"K....Kyuzo...dono?" He asked meekly, stared up at the passive face, which was regarding him with an amused smirk. Katsushiro didn't have it in him to oppose Kyuzo, but felt compelled to ask, "What are you doing?"

"I am staring at a_ little boy_," Kyuzo told him, "Who chased the samurai that caught his interest most. One that almost killed him."

Nodding in agreement, Katsushiro felt the heat rise to his face, feeling embarrassed. Kyuzo seemed to be all the more amused at his reaction.

Then, Kyuzo leaned forward, putting more weight onto his forward leg and applying almost painful pressure onto Katsushiro's shoulder. The boy winced, but did not object, mildly surprised that Kyuzo did not seem to weigh all that much, but was quickly shaken out of this thought. Kyuzo's face, which was barely two feet away from his, was staring directly into bewildered green eyes, "Don't you understand your own reasons?"

More confused than ever, the young man shook his head ever so slightly, finding it more difficult to breathe. Maybe Katsushiro didn't see it; but Kyuzo did.

Speechless, Katsushiro frowned just a little. What exactly did Kyuzo-dono mean? He opened his mouth to speak.

But he was silenced by the sound of the door opening. Both he and Kyuzo looked up.

Kambei was a little curious to find his student effectively pinned to the floor by some stranger he didn't know. A samurai, he identified quickly, who was looking at him both apathetically and shamelessly. Katsushiro, on the other hand, had a face of bright red, embarrassed to be found completely under the control of their hired hand.

"I....I found a samurai, sensei."

"I can see."

* * *

I don't think Katsushiro is this spineless. He gets pretty temperamental if he gets provoked...but he's respectful, and let's face it, Kyuzo's scary. Someone you wouldn't want to meet in a dark alley.

(It occurs to me that this is exactly how they met...well, look what happened! He almost got his throat and wrist slashed.)

But who would dare go against Kyuzo? But I think that Katsushiro will do whatever Kyuzo wants for another reason, and apparently Kyuzo knows it. He's sort of like, "Okay, get this straight. It's about Kanna, and Kanna only. No funny business, kid."

Mm-hmm I know, Katsushiro is Kyuzo's kitten again. :)


	8. The Flute's Song is a Ghost

Oh yes, I'm back!  
(For now.)  
:]

* * *

"Can I assume Katsushiro has detailed you on our mission in Kanna?" Kambei asked. In response, Kyuzo nodded. Katsushiro finished brushing the bootprint off his shoulder.

As the night neared two in the morning, Katsushiro resisted a yawn. Accompanying Kambei meant catering to his erratic and typically strenuous routine. One night could be six hours of sleep, and the next, only two. An always, the man was ready to start the day at dawn.

Safely assuming that this was not going to be a day kind for rest, Katsushiro flipped through a book, a loan from Kirara for the journey, to keep himself awake.

"If you want to go to sleep, do so." Kambei told him.

With a shake of his head and a smile, Katsushiro assured him, "I'll be fine. I'll sleep when you do, sensei."

"There might be no sleep tonight."

At the warning, Katsushiro resisted a groan. Forcing an agreeable nod, he went back to the book. Shortly after taking on the official role of Kambei's disciple, he took it upon himself to adhere to his schedule. Some nights were harder than others.

He sat off to the side, allowing the two veterans to talk. Now that Kyuzo had agreed to come, there was relatively little for him to do. He felt it wise to stay out of their way. Maybe he was the one who brought the blonde here, but Kambei was the one who ultimately decided whether or not the presented candidate was worth it. With all the strength he had, Katsushiro hoped that Kyuzo would be considered well.

Learning from experience, his master had rather high expectations, Katsushiro was not entirely surprised to see his master with no recruits. However, he was quite confident in his own find; but, he had been wrong before.

Outside, a dog barked loudly, and Katsushiro, was distracted from the text, his concentration already split from fatigue. He gazed outside. Nearby, someone was playing a flute; the soft sobs and whistles drifted over the heads of the people quietly drifting down the street. He listened; it reminded him of home.

It was so dark outside, he thought. In this relatively quiet part of the city, it had become quite tranquil. Katsushiro could only make out pitch black outlines of the city's imprint upon the dark blue sky, royal and vast. He couldn't make out where the flute player was.

"You served in the Great War, I can safely assume." Kambei noted. "Have you sworn your allegiance to any lords or manors in Kougakyo?"

Kyuzo shook his head. It was a good sign. If Kyuzo was a ronin and not tied to anyone, politicians, merchants, or otherwise, it made his leaving the city that much more simple.

Peeking over the top of the book, Katsushiro felt quite pleased. Kyuzo might indeed be a very qualified samurai, or Kambei would have immediately dismissed him.

"Kyuzo-dono, tell me." Kambei passed across the table a cup of newly brewed cup of tea. It was eyed with some suspicion before Kyuzo's pale hand wrapped around it and brought it to his lips. "Have you any circumstances that would limit your time in Kanna?"

"No."

Approvingly, Kambei nodded. Katsushiro failed to hold back a smile. It seemed his discovery by pure luck had paid off. The young student was somewhat surprised to see Kyuzo glance at him. It couldn't have been any more than two seconds. But that he had been given any further attention at all caught his attention.

Kyuzo then rose to his feet Unlike either Kambei or his student, he had not bothered taking off his shoes. But, Katsushiro noted with fascination, he might as well have been barefoot; as he walked, those boots refused so much as a tapping sound on the bamboo. Watching, entranced, it seemed to the young man that Kyuzo was simply gliding over the floor, the ends of his coat dangling down his legs and floating about his ankles, as if he was not human at all, but a ghost, graceful and powerful and intangible.

Kyuzo simply assured as he opened the door, "I'll be back."

He did not look back as he slipped through the smallest opening needed for his exit.

* * *

As the door closed behind the red coated warrior, Kambei praised Katsushiro. "You did very well. Kyuzo-dono appears to be an expert samurai."

He wasn't quite sure how his master could tell without seeng any demonstration of sword skill. A wide yawn escaped him, and he covered his mouth with his hand, and Katsushiro decided to question him later.

"Let's get some sleep." Kambei suggested, and Katsushiro was more than happy to oblige as he flipped the book closed.

* * *

With the city of Kougakyo leering further into night, the same consuming dark Katsushiro saw was instead defied by small lights, music, and people on the streets in another part of town. Only some areas remained steeped in darkness, the forgotten or stubborn crevices of the city.

In a more isolated section of the upper levels, Kyuzo intentionally slid into deserted streets and alleys. He was born and raised in the city. He was accustomed to everything that came with urban life, and it only made sense to him once the war ended, to return to one.

Having been in Kougakyo itself for about a year, he knew most of it like the back of his hand. So he could walk deliberately, strategically.

For the second time that night, he was being followed.

Believing himself to be in a sufficiantly abandoned area, the rhythmic beats of Kyuzo's boots on the concrete ceased. With purpose, he drew both his swords. Crouching in a position ready for a battle, Kyuzo waited. Alert but patient, his legs braced onto the cold ground, feeling nothing through the rubber that scraped over uneven stone.

As expected, his assailant was upon him in an instant, rushing in from a nearby alley behind him.

Crossing his swords to defend, a crack of steek on steel snapped through the air. Kyuzo didn't need the light of the sparks that flickered between the two warrios to know who it was.

"Fancy meeting you here, Kyuzo." Hyogo smirked, and Kyuzo's scowl deepened. Not entirely with hate or anger; more like simple annoyance. This man was a spider, an unwanted little creature that he could never quite step on.

Each leaped away, neither of them diverting their eyes for a second. Kyuzo fearlessly charged at Hyogo, eyes fixed challengingly on the cocky face the whole time.

Again and again, their swords collided, Hyogo defending Kyuzo's first sword, then avoiding the second's strike. The two had engaged in a duel so many times their moves were becoming predictable to each other. Hyogo knew how Kyuzo would attack, and Kyuzo knew Hyogo was more powerful, more daring when he initiated a confrontation, and so he had stuck first.

Around them, lights flickered on, residents awakened with the sounds of their furious exchange. They peered outside, and once they identified the fight between samurai, they quickly closed windows, curtains, locked doors. The less involved they were, the better.

Although he had become aware of Kyuzo's character during a fight, Hyogo still had yet to find a strategy to overwhelm him. He could not find a way to penetrate past the other man's defense, and couldn't fully thwart his split-second strikes. Every time he faced Kyuzo, he felt fortunate to walk away alive. Most people hadn't.

The man Kyuzo, with his twin swords, was a master. He had done temporary bodyguard work for aristocrats, living off the generous pay for who knows how long. He only served a dozen of them, perhaps, and became renowned for his skill, efficiency, reliability. His name was passed around the nobility, and eventually, they began to seek him out for permanent positions on their payroll. Apparently not interested and becoming quickly irritated with this offer and that, Kyuzo had evaporated into the shadows from which he came. No one knew where he came from, and so they did not know where he had gone, either. And no one had been able to find him.

That is, until several months ago. Hyogo had been ordered by his Lord Ayamaro to seek out Kyuzo, and so he had.

However, as Hyogo had predicted, along with Tessai, warned their master, Kyuzo was not likely to come easily or quietly.

And he hadn't.

Making a leap backwards, Hyogo put enough distance between them so Kyuzo halted, not bothering to immediately give chase.

"Kyuzo, I know you value your independence and all," Hyogo drawled, "But I have been given an order by my Lord, and I must follow it. You understand, don't you?"

Reacting with little more than pure apathy, Kyuzo's stare only displayed a hint of boredom. He didn't want to be bothered with this nuisance at all. But yes, he understood.

It didn't, however, mean that he was going to be sympathetic enough to make Hyogo's job easy.

"As you know," Hyogo stood straight up, dropping his fighting stance, possibly trying to lull Kyuzo into diplomacy, but the red warrior refused to return the gesture. "I've been told to take you back to my Lord Ayamaro, by force if necessary. but wouldn't it be easier to hear once and hear him out, instead of constantly being on watch for his men like myself?"

Kyuzo was not such a fool, and not nearly so trusting. He was certain that even if he did go to Ayamaro's manor, any number of things could happen. He'd probably have to force his way out. If Ayamaro was putting so much effort into reeling him in, there was little chance he'd be free to walk out as he pleased.

And so it was ultimately much less trouble to wander free and fight off Ayamaro's men whenever they showed up.

His answer was to, with frightening speed, leap at Hyogo. Barely able to see it coming, Hyogo barely raised his sword in time to have it slammed out of his hand by Kyuzo's blade.

The second was held before his heart. Between a wall and Kyuzo's menacing blade, Hyogo immediately understood that he was at the sylph's mercy, and he was about to be killed. And from the look in those intense crimson eyes, narrowed in annoyance and accompanied by a cold smirk, it was certainly a possibility.

"HEY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? Let him go!"

Keeping his blades up, Kyuzo saw a large silhouette running down the street towards them. It appeared to be a machine person, the heavy metal feet clunking over the pavement.

With a massive sword raised in one hand high over the man's head, Kyuzo was forced to jump back. The weapon plunged into the brick wall, narrowly missing the spot Hyogo had been before his dodge. Debris crumbled everywhere, throwing up dust and shooting brick and concete into the air to be scattered at will on the floor.

Kyuzo was quite displeased to see Hyogo take advantage of ghe distraction to snatch his sword back in hand before he retreated. Disappearing into an alley, Hyogo was never free of Kyuzo's predatory stare. Yet, he was fortunate that Kyuzo was now compelled to go after him.

* * *

Pheh. Well...again this chapter fell a little short as to what I'm usually writing...kind of an odd place to break. But I sort of have my writing all over the place, so, like, I have to...put it all into order...especially because this story swings back and fourth between Kanna and Kougakyo. Gets confusing. But I'll get it :]


	9. The Cynic

_With a massive sword raised in one hand high over the man's head, Kyuzo was forced to jump back. The weapon plunged into the brick wall, narrowly missing the spot Hyogo had been before his dodge. Debris crumbled everywhere, throwing up dust and shooting brick and concete into the air to be scattered at will on the floor._

_Kyuzo was quite displeased to see Hyogo take advantage of ghe distraction to snatch his sword back in hand before he retreated. Disappearing into an alley, Hyogo was never free of Kyuzo's predatory stare. Yet, he was fortunate that Kyuzo was not compelled to go after him._

Right now, he had something else to attend to.

"You lousy samurai!" The machine snapped. "Where do you get off attacking someone whose back it against the wall and defenseless!?"

Huffing, puffs of steam periodically burst out of the red pipe on his helmet. Kyuzo cast him a disinterested glance as he continued to rant, "How dishonorable, chasing someone into an alley and threatening them! What, were you robbing the guy? What'd he do to you, huh?! Why I ought to--! Actually, yeah, I _will_, I'll chop you into pieces! Fight me now!"

Not so much as a twitch. Kyuzo did not seem to care at all. With utter passiveness, he stared at the hardheaded metal man before he sheathed his swords and began to walk away. This oaf wasn't worth the effort.

"H-hey! Where are you going!? I just challenged you! Don't walk away, you coward! The Great Kikuchiyo is gonna rip you to shreds!"

"He was Ayamaro's man. He attacked." Kyuzo mentioned, not bothering so much as to turn around.

Faltering, Kikuchiyo's sword lowered. "....Oh...well why didn't you just say that!?...Hey, wait up!"

Neither accelerating or slowing his pace, Kyuzo paid no mind as the machine man ran to catch up with him.

Tonight was certainly full of annoyances. With Katsushiro and his master, Hyogo, and now this pest, Kyuzo felt his patience dwindle. Was to be left alone so much to ask for nowadays?

"The name's Kikuchiyo." The idiot acted as if they were meeting on friendly terms. He also acted as if Kyuzo expecting an answer, he soon became agitated with the prolonged silence as they walked, and at the realization that he wasn't getting one.

"Come on, what's your name?" Kikuchiyo demanded.

"...."

"Where you headed?"

"........"

"....Well?"

"None of your concern."

"What!?"

Growing ever more intolerant of the machine following him, Kyuzo waited for a moment where Kikuchiyo looked away, distracted by something. He then slipped into the crowds, blending into the mobs of Kougakyo's wandering bodies.

Easily sliding through the veins of people, Kyuzo took one moment at the street's corner to look back. Kikuchiyo, towering above all their heads, seemed agitated, searching avidly for him.

As Kyuzo had suspected, this Kikuchiyo had no skill. Satisfied that he was free of the third annoyance of the night, Kyuzo disappeared around the corner.

* * *

With a sigh, Heihachi settled on the bank of the river, pulling off her boots and rolling up her pant legs. She plunged her feet into the cold water, and with a quick look around, shed her gloves as well, pulling up her sleeves. Heihachi was fairly certain that should anyone come near, she'd be able to pull them back on before anyone noticed anything discriminating.

Stroking the grass with her bare right hand, Heihachi smiled.

Despite her good nature, bright smile, and cheerful disposition, Heihachi was quite the guarded person. Always careful, always on guard, mistrusting and suspicious, the female warrior never dared let down her defenses. But at the moment, she had headed far enough upstream that she took the opportunity.

As troubled as she was, Heihachi could appreciate the nature around her. It was simple pleasure such as this that satisfied her the most. Complexity was utterly undesirable to her, especially since so much in life refused to be anything but. Even though she was unsettled, it remained as an isolated concern, not enough to distract her from anything else.

Watching the ripples circling around her ankles, Heihachi tilted her head, appearing somewhere in the awkward crux between curiosity, worry, and calm.

Now, even being that Heihachi didn't like confrontation, she didn't flat out avoid problems.

Gently swinging her legs back and fourth in the water, she would admit it. It would do no good to deny that she had become infatuated. Accepting it as a fact, and not something she could actively change according to will, her next step was to decide how to best prevent it from becoming obvious.

How long had it been since she had known it? A few weeks?

Heihachi needed to search herself. Life was all about balance. How much affection was out of friendship, and how much was out of that 'other' space? Where was this line?

By answering this, she hoped she could tread cautiously, and to her benefit. Heihachi was certain that once she strategically approached the situation, she would be able to keep herself in check, long enough so infatuation drifted away and was forgotten, no harm done.

Looking down at her concealed chest, Heihachi blushed. She couldn't believe he had tricked her like that. What did 'impressive' mean, anyway?

Suddenly a little self conscious, Heihachi patted her vest, on her chest and then down over her stomach. Once assured that nothing was showing, she dropped her hand into the river, running her fingers through the water.

It didn't bother her, when Heihachi was honest, to start to like a man. For her, it was simply a matter of waiting for it to go away.

It was like a trip to the doctor! Some anxiety, a little pain and a little discomfort, and then it was over! Nothing to worry about!

The rest only lasted for perhaps a half hour. For that blissful pocket of relaxation, she enjoyed the calm that came with solitude. Not that Heihachi disliked being in the company of others, but the time alone was needed. This was especially true for Heihachi. She didn't actively worry about hiding her gender, and it had become a part of her daily life so long it was instinctual, but to let down your guard in a true sense was a luxury. As a samurai, this was not a very normal experience.

On the way back, as it so happened, when Heihachi reached the main path back to the village, Shichiroji and Gorobei were approaching from the other direction. The three joined together at the crossroads.

"Heihachi-dono," Gorobei commented, "You look glum."

"Do I?" Heihachi pat her stomach, looking down at it as if she were looking for an answer. "Maybe because I'm hungry?"

In response, Gorobei only chuckled. A smile graced Shichiroji's mouth, but he said nothing, only shaking his head.

"How long do you think it will be before Kambei-sama and Katsushiro-kun come back?" Gorobei mused. "It's been two weeks so far."

"Well..."Shichiroji considered, "That's not very long for two more samurai. They should have found one by now at least."

"It'll take some time, but they'll be good samurai. After all, Kambei-sama is one of the pickiest men I've ever met." Heihachi remarked, then added with another smile. "Time makes things good."

"Is that an expression?"

"....I wonder." Heihachi tilted his head, his wide smile not deterred. "It's something I used to be told a lot. Anyway, I just mean that there's a reason it takes so long. Like I said, Kambei-sama is careful. If it takes three weeks, three months, six months, it'll be worth it."

"But then, by that logic, that means that he should take as long as he possibly can." Shichiroji pointed out. "If things get better and better with more time, then we'd want him to take as much time as he possibly can."

Heihachi lifted her eyebrow at Shichiroji's playful smirk, and with an equally light tone, she retorted, "Sure, if you're going to be that pragmatic about it."

Curiously, Gorobei, who had fallen back a few paces, watched the banter without comment.

"And what if I am?" Shichiroji challenged.

Heihachi thought, and concluded, "I'd have to agree. The more time he takes, the more people he would ask, and within a greater number there would be more people we'd consider qualified to be with us. If he took those three weeks, it's not long. A few months, and he'd ask dozens of people. There'd have to be many more people to choose from, and from there you could pick the best."

Not expecting that she'd agree with him, Shichiroji blinked. Having been confused for a few seconds, he recovered to admit, "I should have known better than try and start an arguement with you."

"Oh, naturally." Heihachi winked.

* * *

The situation soon turned a little sour for young Heihachi. The five samurai had been given two houses in which to live. Kambei and Katsushiro had stayed in one; Shichiroji, Gorobei, and Heihachi took the other. Shichiroji had recently remarked that it now made sense why she had slept with the vest on; neither he or Gorobei had understood why "he" did. But when Kambei and Katsushiro left, Gorobei temporarily took the other one, to give all of them a little more space until the others got back, especially since there would be two more people to consider.

This decision had apparently been discussed by Gorobei and Shichiroji while Heihachi was off doing...what had she been doing at that time again?

Whatever it was, it had screwed her over. Now, she was to be spending the next week at least with Shichiroji alone in the house.

But....well....

Well, _what_ was she so worried about anyway?

After she closed the door behind her, Heihachi placed her hand on her hip and rubbed the back of her head with the other. Nothing was really wrong, there was nothing really to be concerned over. Neither of them spent much time in the house anyway. It was really more for sleep than anything else. Nothing was going to be any different.

She hadn't said much over lunch when this arrangement had been brought to her attention. Of course, during meals, Heihachi's main concern was the rice, and she agreed with the idea, shrugging and saying that she "couldn't find a problem".

It didn't bother her so much, despite her silly little infatuation. More, it was that he knew a little too much about _her._ As he had put it, it would be more comfortable with be with someone she didn't have to hide around.

This wasn't untrue....Heihachi looked forward to the prospect of sleep without that heavy vest on.

For now though, she'd settle for taking off her boots, and leaving them at the entrance, she padded across the floor in her boyish stride.

The way the house was arranged was for there to be one main room and semi-private space with a dividing wall. As Heihachi passed it, meaning to look out the window--

"AHH!"

She didn't expect to be jumped, and have someone's hands come over her eyes.

".....That's not funny."

"Guess who?"

"What do you mean, 'guess'? I know who it is."

"Just guess!"

"Shichiroji-dono, it's not a guess if I already know."

"How do you know?"

"Your voice. Also, I can tell a metal hand when I feel it."

"So, guess."

"...But it's not a guess."

"You're not being fun."

"You're not being pragmatic."

"......"

"......"

"You know, it's scary how easy I was able to jump you. What if I'd been an assassin waiting for you to come back?"

"Oh." Heihachi pried Shichiroji's hands off her face, and smiled. "I guess I'd be in some serious trouble, right?"

"You're awfully calm to be admitting that." Shichiroji gave her a curious look.

Heihachi blinked, drumming her fingers along Shichiroji's wrists, both of which were still in her hands. "Maybe so. But what's the use in worrying all the time?"

Releasing his hands, Heihachi took to taking her gloves off, and as she turned away, to set them on the table, added, "Whatever will be, will be."

"You'd be alright with dying?" Shichiroji inquired.

"Hmm. I wonder." Heihachi mused. Her tone indicated she wasn't so much as answering him as talking to herself. Distracted by her thoughts, she continued, "If someone dies, it's because they weren't strong enough to prevent it, isn't that how it is?"

The words coming out of Heihachi's mouth seemed to be strangely heavy. In response, Shichiroji pressed, "But you can never prevent death."

".....True. Of course, no one is able to completely ward off death. It's just a part of life. There are...circumstances you can't help. But no matter the situation, it just means you weren't strong enough to stop it."

This suddenly somber side of Heihachi was taking Shichiroji by surprise. Heihachi was by no means an unrealistic person, and in her own way was quite passive to the world around her. Normally she carried a general acceptance to the ways of life, analyzing everything that was harsh and unfair, and then coming to terms with it; but she never spoke quite so darkly about it.

He watched her, wondering what exactly went through Heihachi's mind. It always seemed like she spent a lot of time doing nothing, and enjoying it. She liked peace and quiet, and favored relaxation to swordplay and violence. Yet maybe that meant that she had too much time to think. She was a samurai by trade, and if she wasn't fighting, she had nothing to do.

Was this cheerful tomboy just a cynic with a monk's face?

Heihachi leaned down, to place her gloves on the table. Shichiroji's eyes hadn't left her, and he noted, "Huh...look at that."

"Huh? Look at what?" Heihachi stood back up and looked around, puzzled.

She then looked back at Shichiroji for clarification. Seeing the questioning expression on her face, Shichiroji walked over, and unceremoniously clasped both his hands on her hips.

_"....Shichiroji-dono, what are you doing-!?"_

"You've got some pretty wide hips." Shichiroji smiled. "You'll have healthy children."

Mortified, Heihachi gaped at him, her cheeks bright red.

Enjoying her stupor, Shichiroji laughed. "You're still young, but don't take it for granted."

"Stop that!" Heihachi waved his hands away and stepped back, stuttering, "T-That's none of your business!"

Shichiroji suppressed a laugh at Heihachi's fluster, and she continued to rant, "Who says I want children anyway?"

"What about your husband?"

"Well I have no husband, so that's not a problem." Heihachi huffed, and glared at the wall. Shichiroji shrugged in response.

"You seem to like kids though."

"I do, but that's not the point." Heihachi stared flatly at him. "You need to keep your hands to yourself, you old man."

"....Did you just call me an old man!?"

"So that's what you're more concerned about?" Heihachi teased, one side of her mouth lifting into a grin. "You're more worried about being called old than being called a lecher? Like a true pervert...."

"Enough with that!" Shichiroji countered, "I'm not a pervert!"

"Sure." Heihachi sighed and pulled her hat off. "You only make lewd comments and grab me inappropriately, but that's not being perverted..."

"But I don't do that with anyone else." Shichiroji smiled.

"Eh?" Heihachi blinked, turning her face towards him. "Well...not that I've _seen. _But if no one's seen what you've done to me, I might not have seen your behavior with anyone else...."

Shichiroji's brow lifted. "I'm not _that_ improper, you know."

Heihachi laughed. "You never know."

With a sigh, Shichiroji asked, "You really think I'm that bad?"

Taken aback by his suddenly dispirited disposition, Heihachi blinked. "Well...I don't know."

"Eh." Shrugging, Shichiroji let it go. "Either way....you'll have healthy children."

"I don't want children."

"We'll see."

"What's that supposed to mean? You think I'll change my mind?"

Shichiroji smiled.

* * *

Oops. I really wanted to keep the Shichi/Heihachi relationship very light, but it's suddenly turned a little too dramatic. But I'm sure it won't stay so.

I think Shichiroji's flirting, right? Still, Shichiroji...Hands. To. Yourself.

Everyone can see the lightbulb above Gorobei's head beginning to flicker, right? ;)

_"..cynic with a monk's face?" _- On a blog, someone commented that he was, at first glance, the typical "zen master character" (there should be some sort of moe term for that, seems like, but I don't know it XD I don't think there currently is one), but that's not close to his whole personality. He has his dark side, he admits to becoming a cynical person, and is much deeper than the peace loving rice enthusiast, and 'monk' like character that is on the surface. So this is basically what inspired this line :) Ahh I could write a whole essay on this. -sigh- Maybe someday I will, haha.


	10. Payback

It was only early afternoon. Shichiroji had, however, only gotten two hours of sleep last night. Heihachi had kept him up, as they talked and traded stories. In a way, Heihachi felt guilty that she was taking advantage of it. When the exhausted Shichiroji had yawned and blinked his eyes to keep awake, she had urged him to nap. Initially, he declined, but when Heihachi continued to insist, promising she would keep an eye on things with Gorobei, he finally gave in.

Shichiroji asked, "But what about you?"

"Oh, I'm fine." Heihachi flashed him a cheerful smile, appearing as energetic as she could, stretching her arms enthusiastically over her head for emphasis. "A person like me who doesn't do much anyway doesn't need as much sleep."

"You do work a lot." Shichiroji smiled warmly, but she paid no mind to his gaze, waving a hand dismissively and staring out at the grass, bending beneath a sweep of wind.

"Don't worry. Go ahead."

So he had accepted the offer, under the condition that she wake him in an hour, and he'd return the favor. With a defeated shrug and another lighthearted smile, Heihachi had to concede.

* * *

Shichiroji, Heihachi felt, had overstepped his boundaries a little too much for him to simply slip away from; without punishment, at least. Which she was here to deliver.

Amiably, she usually let others do as they please without taking offense or holding a grudge. However...Shichiroji had made the common mistake of thinking she was helpless.

Suspecting that Shichrioji had a very impressive tolerance for alcohol(while she became intoxicated at the mere smell), she decided that sake would fail as a plan. Instead, she needed for Shichiroji to fall asleep. This was an opportunity she couldn't pass up.

Once assured he had at least dozed off, she quietly crept in. She lit some incense in the corner, which she had asked Kirara for. It was an herbal mixture that had a relaxing effect, lulling people into states of calm and entice sleep. As the priestess told Heihachi, it was especially used for people who suffered from pain or illness, to soothe them.

Perfect, Heihachi thought, gently fanning the sweet smoke in the sleeping man's direction. The threads of vapor curled into the air, and she nearly yawned herself. Although not sure exactly how effective it was, she had always trusted farmers with this sort of thing. And it seemed to be working; Shichiroji's breathing slowed, and soon, she could see the movement under his eyelids. As promised, it had led to deep sleep.

Now was the time to begin. Cautiously, Heihachi crawled over to his side. Waving a hand in front of his face, then poking him, she dared to whisper, "Shichiroji-dono..."

When there was no answer, she risked calling him louder; she had to make sure. No response.

Feeling confident, Heihachi very carefully began to disrobe him. Assured he would stay asleep as long as she was careful, Heihachi cautiously slipped off Shichiroji's jacket, easing his arm out and allowing the empty sleeve to drop to the floor.

A strangely wicked smile came across Heihachi's normally cheerful lips as she pulled open his shirt, slipping one shoulder off to reveal the mechanized joint.

After all....you shouldn't mess with a mechanic when you have a machine arm.

In a good mood, Heihachi resisted humming to herself, a habit while working. He may be asleep, but she didn't need to risk waking him.

First, with deft work of a screwdriver, Heihachi removed the outer plate which covered the inner workings. She then began working on unscrewing wires, which had been conveniently connected with bolts. With a smile, she noted that it was designed to be removed easily for repairs; not a surprise. Heihachi had seen many warriors with these types of replacement limbs. Hell, she had built a few herself! So it was a relatively simply task for her. Still, one needed to be well versed in mechanics. The woman knew what she was doing. No amateurs could handle it properly.

Suddenly, Shichiroji stirred, and Heihachi paused, keeping very still. Anxiously, she watched his face.

_Please don't wake up, please don't wake up, please don't wake up..._

Biting her lip, Heihachi then let out a relieved sigh when he relaxed again, still comfortably in sleep.

And anyway, Heihachi figured, what was a joke 'between men'?

However, she felt as she yawned widely, it did backfire a slight. She was herself tired, and there was that incense that she had asked for, to induce sleep.

With a vigorous shake of the head, Heihachi mused that at least she could tell Kirara it worked.

Concentrating again on her work, Heihachi finally snapped the connections to the wires, the ones that connected the nerves. With that done, it meant he wouldn't even feel any pressure on his arm, and that he couldn't move it, either. He would never be aware anything was happening.

But, Shichiroji's mechanized arm was a custom. It wasn't some standard model she knew inside and out. And, unexpectedly, to Heihachi's dismay, a loud 'snap' cracked the air like a gunshot.

While this particular surprise was enough to shake any thoughts of sleep from Heihachi, what concerned her was the sound awakening Shichiroji.

Suddenly very stressed, Heihachi's eyes adhered to the man's face.

She was safe, she was safe, she was safe, she was-

"Mm...eh?"

Oh, darn.

Frantic, Heihachi looked back and fourth between Shichiroji and his arm.

Quickly, she held the screwdriver behind her back as Shichiroji's eyes opened. As good as the incense was, it would have to be a drug(and a dangerous one) to keep a light sleeper like Shichiroji asleep.

Desperate, Heihachi dove down, her face very close to the man's, their foreheads pressed together.

"....Hei-san? What are you doing?"

Awkwardly, they stared at each other. Heihachi suddenly smiled.

"One eye."

"....What?"

"You know how when you're really close and you do that thing where it looks like the other person only has one eye?"

"...." He looked like he wasn't sure whether to laugh or shrug it off.

"Um...well...that's all..." Heihachi blinked.

Keeping her hands busy all the while, Heihachi continued to babble as she secretly finished separating the arm. Oblivious, Shichiroji had to focus on keeping up with her talking, albeit puzzled by it. He had no idea Heihachi was brushing her fingers over the space between his arm and the metal limb to be sure it was fully removed.

"You know, today is awfully cold for spring, don't you think? Some how tea and warm rice would be great. Hey, did you know that Katsushiro hasn't even kissed a girl yet? It's true, and he's eighteen! Well, everyone has their own pace, and he acts otherwise, but he's awfully embarrassed by it."

"What do I care?" Shichiroji asked. He wanted to sit up, but for reasons he didn't know, Heihachi was leaning so close. She kept her face inches away, and he observed that she was gradually moving closer, leaning over him. He then lifted his brow. "Is that incense?"

"Uh-huh. Absolutely...said to be very relaxing...I asked Kirara-dono for it..."

She seemed very flustered, Shichiroji noted. Then, his eyebrow quirked for a completely different reason. Was Heihachi....?

Experimentally, he raised his right hand. He was used to favoring it since it was the one with sensation. Bringing it upwards, he was about to hold the back of Heihachi's head, his fingers just brushing the stray auburn locks. Suddenly, however, she pulled away, both hands behind her back, muttering stuttered phrases and apologies. Not turning her back to him once, she was out the door before he realized what had happened.

With a sigh, he lay there, feeling rested, but somehow defeated. Heihachi was so odd sometimes. Even though Shichiroji would consider them quite friendly with each other, she took him off guard sometimes with her eccentricites. Charming as they were, he still couldn't quite decode her.

* * *

Meanwhile, Heihachi made a run for it. Through the village's main path, she hoped to escape to the forest, where she could hide for a while. She would admit to anyone she was not the athlete the others were. Not that she wasn't an able runner; most people would have a hard time keeping pace. But she wanted as much of a head start as she could get before-

_"Heihachi-dono!!"_

Uh-oh. No 'Hei-san'? Shichiroji usually only reverted to 'Heihachi-dono' when he was upset. Well, it wasn't unjustified, but as she stole a glance over her shoulder, Heihachi gulped. Oh yes. Shichiroji looked quite upset indeed. Not that she could really pretend to be innocent with his arm clutched in her hand.

_"Waaaaaaaaaah!!"_

Panicked, Heihachi ran faster. No forest now. To the river? No, dead end. Bridge? No, oh not at all...she was fairly sure encountering an angry Shichiroji on a bridge high above a canyon floor was foolish.

Her imagination conjured the image of Shichiroji kicking her off the edge, and she shuddered. He wasn't such a volatile man but...you never really know a person.

Risking a leap over the ridge down onto the fields, Heihachi yelped as a rock snapped off under her foot, and she tumbled, falling head over heels. She rolled forward, completing an entire flip before landing in a heap. She groaned, dragging herself to her feet and rubbing her head.

That jump was a fatal mistake; Shichiroji was now significantly closer. She began to run again, and he ordered after her, "Get back here! Give me my arm!"

"Not just yet! I'm not giving up right now!" Heihachi passed a cunning smile back at him.

"You _trickster!_ I'll make chipmunk soup out of you!"

"....Did you just call me a chipmunk!?"

"You have the cheeks for it!"

"That's not funny!"

"You have the butt for it, too!"

"....That's even less funny!"

Desperate, Heihachi scrambled up a nearby tree, and just barely pulled her leg up in time to avoid Shichiroji's hand, which swiped at her and nearly caught her ankle.

Panting, Heihachi sat herself on a branch nearly 12 feet up, and beheld a very frustrated Shichiroji standing below.

"Do you really think I can't climb a tree!?"

"Not with one arm." Heihachi pointed out.

"..." Silent at first, annoyed with his own disability now, he then demanded, "What did you do that for, anyway?"

"You deserved some payback, you pervy old man!" Heihachi stuck her tongue out at him.

"What!? So a few comments justifies stealing my _arm!?"_

"The slap on my butt and the grabbing of my hips, too. Gotta nip these things in the bud." Heihachi dangled her legs over the branch, the arm in her lap. Glancing down at him, she threw him a smile. "Who knows what you'd do if I let it go on?"

Narrowing his eyes, Shichiroji commented, "Bet you can't wait to find out."

Heihachi's eyes widened. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just wait until I get my hands on you, Heihachi!"

"'Hand'." Heihachi corrected.

"You'll have to come down sometime." Shichiroji told her, and sat down at the base of the trunk.

Oh. That was true. Heihachi suddenly became nervous as he added, "I'll be waiting."

"...."

* * *

Well, Heihachi is in a bit of trouble here, isn't she?  
By the way, back there, Shichiroji thought Heihachi was getting a little frisky XD That's why he was like, "*eyebrow raise* Well, well, well, what's going on here...?"  
Sorry, Shichi, she was just stealing your arm.

This chapter brought to life by me and Citizen Cobalt 1's realization that Heihachi = mechanic and Shichiroji = mechanical arm.


	11. Reputation

In the still of the morning's cool air, Katsushiro and Kambei lingered on the front porch of the inn. Although Kyuzo had not indicated exactly when he should be expected back, Kambei had decided to wait out the hour for the man to come. He had guessed Kyuzo intended to join them in the morning.

"When do you think Kyuzo-dono will arrive?" Katsushiro idly plucked a thread from his sleeve.

"Entirely up to Kyuzo-dono." Kambei said simply. He observed as his student pulled at his wrist guard. Able to distinguish nervousness in his movements, he inquired "What's wrong?"

Caught, Katsushiro blinked and drew his hand back to settle on his lap. "Nothing."

Kambei left it alone, and changed the subject. "We'll find the last samurai today. We'll leave for Kanna tomorrow morning."

Katsushiro gazed curiously up at his teacher. He wanted to ask if perhaps he was hasty in this declaration. After all, it had taken them several weeks to find only one so far. But of course, he knew better than to question, and said nothing. He only nodded in agreement.

Kyuzo arrived shortly after seven in the morning, so quietly he had crossed the threshold of the inn's gate before either of them had noticed him approach. Katsushiro noted that Kyuzo looked so precisely the same as he did last night, he had to wonder if the man had so much as slept. With eyes lingering in curiosity, the apprentice watched Kyuzo come as close as about 8 feet before he halted.

"Morning, Kyuzo-dono." Kambei offered a polite greeting.

"...." Kyuzo nodded his head in a curt acknowledgement.

"I want to find the final samurai today, and to be ready to depart tomorrow." Kambei informed the warrior. Kyuzo didn't respond. He wasn't even looking directly at either of them, but he appeared to be listening.

"Any people you know of that would help us?"

"No."

Katsushiro snuck another glance at Kyuzo out of the corner of his eye. It occurred to him this was the first time he was seeing the man in genuine daylight. The previous evening, it had been dark, the only light the artificial electric glows of the city. It seemed that Kyuzo's regal air had nothing to do with bright lights illuminating brilliant hues or impressive shadows.

Kyuzo was aware of Katsushiro's half-admiring, half-awed gaze, but ignored it.

"We will split up and search." Kambei asserted. "Katsushiro and I will check the western part of the city. Kyuzo-dono, would you search the east?"

Kyuzo shrugged in what seemed to be agreement.

The weather was not as merciless as the day before. Although warm, it wasn't nearly the thick and tangible heat from yesterday, and Katsushiro was grateful for it.

His teacher strode several paces ahead of him. Although he couldn't see Kambei's face, Katsushiro was sure the man was as attentive as ever, scouting for possible recruits, anybody of interest. If anything, he was more concentrated in his efforts than before. Apparently, Katsushiro deduced, Kambei's patience for their search was beginning to dwindle.

Katsushiro himself was a little frustrated. They had been hired to protect the village...and they weren't at the village. It felt almost as if they weren't doing their job. He had voiced his opinion some nights ago to Kambei; the man assured him that as long as they were doing what was asked, they were fulfilling their duties.

Yet, it seemed Kambei was beginning to match Katsushiro's eagerness to return, especially if he had made the declaration they would leave in the morning with Kyuzo and their last samurai.

His curiosity had been brewing since last night. When they stopped in a small plaza, to sit on the edge of a water fountain, Katsushiro asked, "Sensei, may I ask about your thoughts regarding Kyuzo-dono?"

"What about him?"

"Well," Katsushiro blinked, considering how to phrase it. "You've always been so careful about who we considered recruiting. What made you so quick to accept Kyuzo-dono, without even seeing a demonstration of his skill?"

With no delay, Kambei answered, "I know him from the war."

"You know each other?" Katsushiro's eyes widened from surprised. They hadn't let on....

"Not personally." Kambei clarified. "I've _heard_ of him, to be more accurate. I need no physical proof of his skill; I'm well aware of it."

"How?" Katsushiro pressed, and Kambei seemed slightly hesitant to divulge more. After some moments of reflection, he explained further.

"I didn't actually know his name." Kambei started. "I do know he wasn't in a position of high power. Despite his skill, for some reason he never climbed the hierarchy enough so that his name was spread. There was simply talk of an exceptionally skilled samurai who had on multiple occasions carried out nearly suicidal missions and completed them with great success."

"He was that revered?" Katsushiro's voice carried a mixture of awe and amazement.

Kambei nodded. "Not much was known about him. He was enough of a problem for his enemies that they sent assassins after him, which would never be considered for a mere foot soldier. But none of them came back."

"So how were you able to recognize him?"

"As I said, not much was known." Kambei glanced down at his student. "What we did know was that he was a master of the twin swords. Practitioners of this style are difficult to come by; masters of them even rarer. A physical description of a blonde man in a red coat passed around as well."

"So it didn't take you long to recognize him...." Katsushiro mused.

Kambei pointed at Katsushiro's neck with a smile. "There is also that."

Katsushiro brushed his fingertips against his throat and recognized the small cut Kyuzo's blade had pressed into it. They stood and began to walk again, and Kambei added, "His guard is up and his skills have not waned if he took his blade to you so quickly."

"Yes, he's a very cautious person." Katsushiro agreed. "What reason do you think he had for deciding to come with us?"

"Who knows...."

* * *

Had Kambei been slightly more thoughtful, he would have sent Katsushiro with Kyuzo instead, or gone with him himself. For Kyuzo was not, as one would put it, either talkative or sociable. He had somewhat of a charismatic personality, but the type that was wondered about from afar. He gave off no impressions as being easy to approach or understand.

For three hours, Kyuzo walked nearly aimlessly around the city. Nonstop, he trekked his winding path, his attention between looking for possible candidates and mulling over how on earth to actually speak to someone.

Kyuzo wasn't quite positive he knew a decent strategy to win someone over to their cause. His most well understood method of persuasion was force; his missions were all action and no talk.

Yet, he carried out his missions without fail.

For almost half an hour, Kyuzo tailed a wary man who kept his guard up. He was slight of build and rather feminine looking. He couldn't have been up to Kyuzo's shoulder, walking delicately and unassumingly. His clothing was ragged, his thick and long hair kept in check, tied at the back of his head.

Judging by appearances alone, it didn't seem that this man would be much help. He looked even less formidable than Katsushiro. But it was in the first five minutes he realized he was being followed, discreetly and routinely checking his surroundings. This awareness was encouragement for his shadow, who persisted for some time until the man paused at a small triangular park, an unusual shock of green against the landscape of the otherwise dull city of metal and brick.

Because the man had already been well aware he was being followed, Kyuzo made no effort to disguise himself no longer. As he began to step in, his eyes caught the flexing of the man's slender hands. He recognized that motion; they were itching to reach for the hilt of his katana.

Although he kept his eyes down and his appearance casual, Kyuzo could distinguish the air of a veteran who was ready at any moment to defend or strike.

Stepping closer, he was met with the sudden turn of purple eyes upward at him. They were hardly threatening; if anything, they were innocently curious.

"Is there something you want from this one?" A small smile played on the man's lips, and Kyuzo was able to catch the subtleties of his tone; a certain edge to his voice indicated that he was knew Kyuzo had been following him, and even more that he was aware Kyuzo knew that he himself was informed. Although he was keeping a friendly countenance on, he was making it clear he wasn't ignorant. Kyuzo had to be slightly impressed.

"Interested in a new mission?" Kyuzo asked directly.

"A mission?" A slight frown came to the man's face. The amiability didn't fade, but something dark had passed into his eyes.

"Defending the village of Kanna from bandits."

For several moments, the man kept silent, tilting his head as if he had been provided a riddle. Although he appeared to be considering, he ultimately answered, "I'm afraid I'm not terribly interested in your offer."

Kyuzo blinked.

Understanding he had been asked for more elaboration, he continued, "I'm not interested in taking any more lives...the wars are over, and I'm a pacifist."

A tiny smirk came to the corner of Kyuzo's lips.

"I know, I know." With a short laugh, the man held up his two hands. "A veteran of such a bloody war can hardly claim to be a man who refuses to take life."

Apparently, this person was able to understand perfectly Kyuzo's form of communication. It was a shame that he was refusing. Kyuzo could make out the man was extremely skilled; yet, if he was not interested, there was nothing he could do.

"Very well." Kyuzo accepted his decline. Still, he offered, "At Sasa Sanctuary....Kambei or Katsushiro. If you change your mind. We'll be gone by tomorrow."

"Oh...well.." With another cheery smile, the man humbly bowed his head. "Thank you."

Kyuzo nodded and proceeded to walk away.

* * *

Perhaps only an hour later, Kyuzo was still walking. And he hadn't found anyone he considered interesting enough to so much as spare a second glance. Qualified samurai were difficult to come by nowadays. If anything, Kyuzo was being more selective than Kambei.

It was early afternoon by now, and--

"Hey! You there!"

The rhythmic tapping of Kyuzo's boots on the concrete came to an abrupt halt. He paused long enough to look over his shoulder, his expression remaining unchanged.

He had recognized the booming voice instantly, and indeed he watched as Kikuchiyo stormed him way over, nearly running into several people. As he caught up to Kyuzo, he wasted no time huffily complaining. "Where the hell did you go last night? I was looking for you, you know!"

Kyuzo blinked.

"And what does Ayamaro want with you anyway!?" Kikuchiyo half-shouted.

Taking a quick glance around, Kyuzo immediately saw surrounding people look at him suspiciously and slink away. He almost sighed. Now it was going to be more difficult to find people if there were rumors spreading that Ayamaro was after him.

"What did you do to get people running after you in the middle of the night? Besides that, you should at least thank me for helping, and-hey! Where're you going!?"

He wasn't worth the time or the effort. Kyuzo was already walking away, paying absolutely no mind to the flood of shouts and curses aimed at him from behind. And although he had hoped the mechanical samurai would leave him alone, he somehow knew better. It came as no surprise that Kikuchiyo's voice followed him, his loud and clunking footsteps steadily coming closer and closer as he ran to catch up, until he finally popped up by Kyuzo's side.

Hostility apparently forgotten, he asked, "So what're you doing, anyway?"

"...."

"Come on, can't you at least answer?"

"...."

"Can you tell me your name at least?"

".....Kanon."

".....Kind of a girly name, isn't it?"

"...."

* * *

I left it pretty subtle, but Kyuzo was talking to Kenshin, from_ Rurouni Kenshin_ :3 There must be a few fans still wandering around....ahhh it's been so long! I never even finished RK! ;__;  
_Sasa Sanctuary_ is the name of the inn that's run by sparrows in _Okami_. I just borrowed the name. There are no birds employed at the inn Katsushiro and Kambei are staying it.


End file.
